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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27696686">Obey His Word</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_K_TiBal/pseuds/K_K_TiBal'>K_K_TiBal</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Supernatural</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Abusive Naomi (Supernatural), Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Ella Enchanted Fusion, Angel Dean Winchester, Angel Sam Winchester, Arthur Ketch Being an Asshole, Canon-Typical Violence, Castiel isn't in a great mental place due to his curse, Cursed Castiel (Supernatural), Demisexual Castiel (Supernatural), Fade to Black, Human Castiel (Supernatural), Human Naomi (Supernatural), M/M, Mean Naomi (Supernatural), Men of Letters Bunker (Supernatural), Suicidal Thoughts, angel grace, reverse!verse</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-25</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 03:19:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>33,805</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27696686</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/K_K_TiBal/pseuds/K_K_TiBal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Castiel was ten years old, he was cursed to always be obedient.<br/>Now he’s a hunter—not the best one at his job, admittedly, since he’s always forced to comply with the monsters that beg for their life.<br/>Everything changes on one such hunt, when an angel named Dean saves his life, and tells Castiel that he’s searching for his missing brother, Sam. His naive callousness about humans and give-em-Hell attitude is off-putting, but Dean ends up being exactly what Castiel didn’t know he needed.<br/>As he grows closer to Dean, he tries to keep the secret of the curse close to his chest—but the past always has a way of exposing the truth.<br/>Curses are hard—but trust is harder.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Castiel/Dean Winchester</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>548</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>DCBB 2020, The Destiel Fan Survey Favs Collection</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Iiiiiit's here!!! I haven't done the DCBB in five years and I'm so happy to finally be able to post one again!!<br/>The biggest of thanks to <a href="https://whelvenwings.tumblr.com"> whelvenwings</a> and <a href="https://wanderingcas.tumblr.com"> wanderingcas</a> - both of whom are the best beta readers I could ask for - you guys are life-savers. </p><p>Art is by the incredible <a href="https://liv3r-transplant.tumblr.com"> liv3r.transplant</a> who went ABOVE AND BEYOND for this collaboration. I am in awe and I cannot praise her enough. <br/><a href="https://liv3r-transplant.tumblr.com/post/635700090314588160/dcbb-master-post-throughout-drawing-this-i-was"> ART MASTERPOST </a></p><p>I hope you all enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<p>Through no fault of his own, Castiel Novak was a bad hunter.</p>
<p>He did most things correctly - found the right hunts, made the right calls - but his success rate was never very high. </p>
<p>That thought nudged at him from time to time, even as he stalked his way down the last hallway in a long abandoned shipping facility, machete gripped tightly in one hand while he kept an ear out for any sounds that Shouldn’t Be. It was dark, grimy, and everything he’d come to expect from a vampire nest. </p>
<p>Why couldn’t vampires ever nest up in a large mansion with clean walls and -</p>
<p>Castiel paused as a rat skittered along the floor, and he let out a breath. </p>
<p>Wealthy vampires living in mansions would probably be a lot harder to hunt, anyway - more red tape to duck under.</p>
<p>There was another scraping sound, this time from behind him, and it was a lot bigger than a rat. </p>
<p>Castiel swung around, knocking his elbow hard into the vampire’s jaw before it could reach him. The vampire - Castiel thought his name was Roy, but that wasn’t going to be important for much longer - slammed against the wall and bounced back with a hiss, raking a hand forward that Castiel easily dodged. </p>
<p>Castiel grunted as he kicked at Roy’s chest, knocking him back far enough for him to get a better grip on his machete, line it up with Roy’s neck, and -</p>
<p>“Wait!” Roy’s voice rang out in desperation. “Don’t kill me!”</p>
<p>
  
</p>
<p>Castiel’s muscles seized up and his swing halted before it could reach Roy’s throat.</p>
<p>He gritted his teeth in frustration, touching the tip of his weapon under Roy’s chin, breathing heavily. </p>
<p>That was it. </p>
<p>The hunt was over. </p>
<p>“Why shouldn’t I?” Castiel said, his voice low. “Give me a reason.”</p>
<p>A reason would help him sleep at night when this was all over. </p>
<p>Roy’s breathing hitched and his teeth slowly began to retract back into his mouth, making him look much more human than he had a few seconds before, despite the blood on his face. </p>
<p>“I didn’t ask to be turned, man,” Roy said, eyes still darting around the room, looking for an exit. “I’m just doing what I have to do.” </p>
<p>Castiel inhaled deeply, frustration already clawing at his ribcage with how badly he wanted to behead the bloodsucker and leave this town a little safer than he’d found it. </p>
<p>“Me too.” He pulled the machete back and smacked Roy on the head with the flat side. “Luckily for you.”</p>
<p>Roy dropped to the floor, unconscious, but still very alive. </p>
<p>Just like he’d asked.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>Castiel tossed the machete into the backseat of his car and dropped into the driver’s seat, slamming the door shut with much more force than was necessary. Here he was, at the end of another hunt with nothing to show for it but a couple hundred miles on his odometer and a motel bill. </p>
<p>He dug out a switchblade from his pocket, flipped it open and turned his gaze upward, staring at the roof of his car in resignation. There were dozens of marks scraped into the top now, a decent amount on the left side, and a steadily growing amount on the right. </p>
<p>Grimacing, Castiel brought the knife up to the right side of the roof, just above the passenger seat, and carved in another mark. </p>
<p>At this rate, it wasn’t going to take much more for the right side to overtake the left in number. </p>
<p>Castiel let out a sigh, not feeling much about it either way.</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>“Rough hunt?” Anna asked, already pouring him a drink.</p>
<p>Castiel shrugged his shoulders as he made himself comfortable in one of the stools at the Roadhouse. It didn’t matter what he said, Balthazar had probably already mentioned that Castiel had asked him <em> yet again </em> to clean up after one of his disasters. </p>
<p>“Well, maybe this will help,” Anna said, brushing a strand of auburn hair from her face and pushing the drink in his direction. “It always does for me.” </p>
<p>Castiel nodded at her in gratitude and took it down in one go, dropping the glass back down onto the counter with a loud smack. </p>
<p>There were a few other patrons in the bar with him - all hunters, presumably. He’d seen most of them around once or twice, but he wasn’t necessarily on friendly terms with any of them. Sooner or later you ran into everyone at the Roadhouse. </p>
<p>Castiel absentmindedly stared into his empty glass.</p>
<p>Another drink was nudged in his direction. </p>
<p>“Have another,” Anna said, a sad sort of smile on her face. </p>
<p>Castiel didn’t even try to resist that command when his hand instantly reached for the glass. Sure, it was pity, but he’d come to expect it by now. </p>
<p>“You know…” Castiel heard Anna say, though he was staring into the empty cup, “not everyone has the stomach for hunting. That’s okay. No one’s going to think of you any differently if -”</p>
<p>“I <em> have </em>the stomach for it, Anna,” Castiel said, but there was no malice behind it. “It’s - it’s complicated. Things will get back on track eventually.”</p>
<p>Anna reached a hand out and patted his arm encouragingly. </p>
<p>“Yeah, of course, Cas. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make that sound condescending.”</p>
<p>Castiel huffed out half a laugh and pulled out his wallet, tossing a few bills on the counter in payment for the drinks.</p>
<p>“It’s alright. I’ve heard worse.”</p>
<p>He stood as he put his wallet back, and turned at the touch of a hand on his shoulder. </p>
<p>“Cas,” Anna said, “if you’re interested... there’s a rougarou in Dallas. The hunters over there can’t seem to find it, just its victims. I’ll bet they could really use your area of expertise?”</p>
<p>Castiel let himself smile wryly at that, but he doubted it was untrue. The reputation he’d scraped together in the hunting community wasn’t exactly the most renowned when it came to finishing the job he'd started, but tracking monsters down? Finding people who didn’t want to be found?</p>
<p>That was his bread and butter. </p>
<p>He nodded at Anna in thanks. </p>
<p>“I’ll see what I can do.”</p>
<p>-</p>
<p>The hunters in Dallas weren’t able to find the rougarou because it <em> wasn’t </em>a rougarou. It had taken Castiel the better part of three hours to investigate the first victim, notice his credit card was still active, and find him on an ATM security feed with a bright lens flare in his eyes. </p>
<p>Shapeshifter. </p>
<p>It was probably mimicking a rougarou in its killings to throw hunters off the trail. </p>
<p>And now, Castiel found himself in a large, recently emptied barn, machete gripped comfortably in his hand once again as he moved quietly around hay bales that had been tossed aside. For a moment, he wished he’d decided to try out wearing earplugs for this final confrontation just as a safety net, but the last time he’d tried that the hunt had ended up with him in the hospital for a week. </p>
<p>For now, he’d just have to find the shifter, and dispatch of it before it could open its mouth.</p>
<p>There was a creak in the rafters above him, and that was all the warning Castiel was allowed before something heavy tried to drop down on top of him. Castiel threw himself to the side just as the shifter fell, and swung out with his blade, just barely catching the shifter on the arm. </p>
<p>The shifter cried out in what sounded like a healthy dose of both anger and pain. Screams were fine. Shouts were fine. Anything that wasn’t actual words was a point in Castiel’s favor. </p>
<p>Castiel swung his blade again, aiming for a nice, clean decapitation, but the shifter ducked forwards and barrelled into Castiel, knocking the wind out of him like he’d just been hit by a bus. </p>
<p>The machete was knocked out of his hand and for a terrifying few moments, Castiel felt hands begin to squeeze around his throat, cutting off his airway. </p>
<p>One hand clawed at the shifter’s face, and the other grabbed a handful of dirt, hay, and other debris and threw it into the shifter’s eyes. The hands left his neck as the shifter shouted and scrambled to get the dirt out of his eyes, and Castiel quickly pulled out the silver dagger he kept strapped to his ankle. </p>
<p>Castiel stabbed into the shoulder and the shifter screamed as his flesh sizzled and burned where the metal had impaled him. Castiel shoved him off and grabbed his machete from where it had been knocked away, turned, and swung towards the shifter’s head with everything he had. </p>
<p>“Wait!”</p>
<p>Castiel hissed as his muscles instantly seized, stopping the blade an inch before it had been about to take the head clean off. </p>
<p>The shifter blinked, letting his eyes flick from the blade to Castiel, surprise written on every line of his face.</p>
<p>
  <em> Stall and think of a loophole. Stall and think of a loophole.  </em>
</p>
<p>“Why should I?” Castiel asked venomously, “You’ve killed six people.”</p>
<p>He’d waited, and now he could go.</p>
<p>Castiel reared back again, and the shifter scrambled backwards. </p>
<p>“No, stop!”</p>
<p>Again, Castiel stopped, and the shifter drew himself to his feet, looking <em> very </em>confused. </p>
<p>The shifter was breathing heavily, and hissed as he yanked the silver knife out of his shoulder while Castiel seethed - unable to do anything besides <em> stop </em>.</p>
<p>What the shifter had <em> probably </em>meant was “stop attacking me with the machete”, which meant everything else was fair game. It was his own fault for not being more specific. </p>
<p>Castiel dropped the machete and sprung forward with intent to win back the knife, and -</p>
<p>“Don’t come any closer,” the shifter said, not near as much fear present in his voice as there had been the last two times he’d spoken. </p>
<p>Almost instantaneously Castiel skidded to a stop, breathing heavily as he stared down the shifter. </p>
<p>Dread began to pool in his gut. </p>
<p>“Huh.” The shifter tilted his head to the side curiously. “That isn’t supposed to <em> work, </em>you know. You make fun of people for saying stuff like that.”</p>
<p>It was time to cut his losses. The shifter was figuring it out much faster than any other monster had, and he needed to leave before he got any more ideas. Maybe if just backed away, the shifter would let him call it a draw. </p>
<p>Castiel raised his hands up in the air in a surrender, and began to back up slowly. </p>
<p>“Don’t move back either,” the shifter said in a rush,licking his lips. “Stay exactly where you are.”</p>
<p>“Shut up!” Castiel yelled back, trying to look as intimidating as he could for someone who couldn’t move his feet from their current half-stepped backwards position. </p>
<p>“Is… is this a trick?” the shifter asked, eyes darting around the barn. “This is a trap or something.”</p>
<p>“I don’t know,” Castiel said, latching onto the one thing that might save him. “Why don’t you find out?” </p>
<p>The shifter waited a few more moments, a smile creeping onto his face. He huffed out a tentative laugh. </p>
<p>“This is - wow - this is interesting.” The shifter stepped forward, and Castiel tensed, but couldn’t move his feet. “Uh, stand on one foot.”</p>
<p>Castiel gritted his teeth together as he stood on one foot. </p>
<p>“Stop it,” he said, panic starting to set in. </p>
<p>“Put your foot down.”</p>
<p>Down it went. </p>
<p>The shifter twirled Castiel’s silver knife in his fingers as he took a cautious step towards him. </p>
<p>“Well. This night just got a lot more fun.”</p>
<p>The shifter took another step when Castiel stayed right where he’d been told to stay, and shook his head in disbelief. </p>
<p>“I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re one unlucky bastard. Now, don’t move.” The shifter grinned as he walked right up to Castiel and pressed the blade of the knife up to Castiel’s cheek and ran it slowly down his face. </p>
<p>Castiel shouted as the blade broke the skin, but other than that he was helpless. </p>
<p>This was it. </p>
<p>The hunt that finally did him in before the marks on his car did it for him.</p>
<p>“I haven’t killed six anymore,” the shifter whispered, “now, it’s seven.”</p>
<p>The shifter reared back with the knife, and -</p>
<p>Then he was gone. </p>
<p>Well, not, <em> gone </em> gone. </p>
<p>One second the shifter had been about to stab him in the gut, and the next he’d been tossed across the room like a limp piñata . </p>
<p>Another man was standing in front of Castiel now. Broad-shouldered, sandy hair, green eyes, and freckles dusting a good majority of a face that looked bewilderingly at him. </p>
<p>“What the <em> hell </em>, dude?” the man said, his eyes seemingly noting the lack of any sort of restraints on Castiel. “You got a death wish or something? Get moving!”</p>
<p>He said it with a wave of his hand towards the exit, seeming to imply that Castiel needed to leave. </p>
<p>But that wasn’t what he’d <em> said.  </em></p>
<p>Castiel let out a relieved breath as the man’s words released him from the hold, and wasted no time rushing over to scoop up his dropped blade. </p>
<p>He didn’t know how long whoever this was had been there for, but on the off-chance he hadn’t realized what was going on, Castiel couldn’t risk this shapeshifter saying anything or getting away. </p>
<p>Castiel spared a single glance at the newcomer, who seemed surprised that Castiel hadn’t immediately left, and then rushed towards the recovering shifter. </p>
<p>“What are you -” </p>
<p>Castiel ignored him in favor of getting to the shifter with as much speed as possible, and taking a big swing at his neck just as he began to open his mouth. </p>
<p>There was a satisfying<em> thud </em> as his head hit the ground, and the shifter was no more.</p>
<p>“Hey!” </p>
<p>Castiel turned, wiping the spray of blood from his forehead with the sleeve of his dark denim jacket to see the newcomer walking towards him, shoulders slumped in defeat.  </p>
<p>“Goddammit - I needed to <em> question </em> him!” the guy said, gesturing at what was now the remains of the shapeshifter. “How am I supposed to question a dead guy, huh?”</p>
<p>Castiel rolled his eyes and started wiping the machete off on the nearest bale of hay he could find. </p>
<p>“If you’re wondering if he was the one who murdered six people in Dallas - don’t worry. I got him for you,” Castiel muttered. </p>
<p>“<em> You </em> got -" The guy folded his arms in front of his chest indignantly. He hadn’t even brought a weapon with him.  “ <em> First of all, </em> you’re <em> welcome </em> for saving your life back there. Hell of a time to go into shock, dude. A few more seconds and you were going to be shifter-food.”</p>
<p>“I had it handled,” Castiel said flatly. “There was no need for you to live out a heroic fantasy.”</p>
<p>The man scoffed as he crouched down next to the body and began going through the pockets. </p>
<p>“‘Had it handled’ my ass.”</p>
<p>“I’m sorry, who are you?” Castiel asked pointedly as he finished cleaning his blade. “One of the hunters who misidentified a shapeshifter as a rougarou? Because <em> I’m </em>the only one who was able to actually find him.”</p>
<p>“I’m - yes. Hunter,” the man said after a slight pause. “So? Anyway, that’s not what I wanted to question him about.”</p>
<p>Castiel raised an eyebrow. </p>
<p>“You wanted to talk to him about something <em> unrelated </em>to the six murders he committed?”</p>
<p>The man nodded, and dug around in the pocket of his own leather jacket until he pulled out a handkerchief, handing it out to Castiel.</p>
<p>Castiel looked at it blankly. </p>
<p>“Your face,” the man said, shaking it. “You’re losing blood. From when you ‘had it handled’.”</p>
<p>Castiel brought a hand up to his face and pulled it back to find a generous amount of blood on the cheek where he’d been cut by the shifter. He’d been so pumped full of adrenaline he’d nearly forgotten about it. </p>
<p>Castiel took the handkerchief and pressed it to his face. </p>
<p>“Thank you,” he murmured, wincing at the sting. </p>
<p>The man took one last look at the body of the shapeshifter and sighed loudly. </p>
<p>“You could try hunting better next time?” he suggested, shooting Castiel a look as he turned to walk away. “Maybe get a partner. Seems like you could use one.”</p>
<p>Castiel rolled his eyes.</p>
<p>“You didn’t tell me what you wanted to ask him about,” Castiel said, following this new hunter out the front door of the barn. “Maybe… <em> maybe </em>I can help you.”</p>
<p>A ‘because <em> you </em> helped <em> me’ </em>went unsaid. </p>
<p>They walked out into what was mostly open plain, and a few farmhouses scattered in the distance. Castiel’s car was sitting over on the side of the road, glinting in the light of the sunset. You almost wouldn’t know there was the beheaded body of a shapeshifter nearby. </p>
<p>The man looked him over once -  twice - and let out a low hum. </p>
<p>“Look, no offense buddy, but it’s probably a little above your paygrade.”</p>
<p>Castiel frowned, ignoring the way that made his blood boil. </p>
<p>“Try me.”</p>
<p>The man did nothing for a few moments, then sighed and pulled a folded-up piece of paper out of his pocket, shook it out until it unfolded, and held it out to Castiel. </p>
<p>On it was a grainy black and white photo, probably taken from security footage, of a tall, broad-chested man with shaggy hair. </p>
<p>And a lens flare on his eyes. </p>
<p>“I’m trying to find this guy,” the man said, and the only thing that gave away any sort of emotion was a slight twitch in the corner of his mouth. </p>
<p>“That’s it?” Castiel said, and tapped a finger on the eyes of the picture. “Because that’s the shifter.”</p>
<p>“I <em> know </em>that,” the man said and pointed to the face of the man, “I’m looking for the guy he’s imitating. He’s not one of the murder victims, so I wanted to know where he picked up the face.”</p>
<p>Castiel squinted at the picture and then back up at the stranger. </p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>The man grimaced. </p>
<p>“Because that’s my brother. He’s missing.”</p>
<p>Castiel’s mouth shaped into a small “o” as he stared down at the face in the picture once more. It didn’t look like the two shared a <em> lot </em> of features, but he supposed that didn’t mean they weren’t family.</p>
<p>The fact that the shifter had decided to take the form of this man’s brother didn’t exactly bode well for the brother, but this guy was right. A man with this face wasn’t one of the murder victims, and the shifter had seemed to leave those bodies out to be found. </p>
<p>Maybe he’d just been a face in the crowd that had been the unfortunate pick for a passing shapeshifter. </p>
<p>“Well,” Castiel said and looked up at the man, “the good news is that I can probably help you.”</p>
<p>It was always dangerous to be around people, especially new people. Anyone who he didn’t yet understand was always a potential threat, but it also paid for Castiel to be on the good side of any hunters he met, in case Balthazar ever got sick of cleaning up messes. Besides, the guy had just saved Castiel's life.</p>
<p>The man raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Why’s that?”</p>
<p>Castiel shrugged a shoulder and started walking towards his 1978 Lincoln Continental. </p>
<p>“Because I specialize in finding people,” he said, opening the passenger side door and beginning to empty the seat of the various books and other objects he’d piled on top of it. </p>
<p>“What?” the man asked, sounding much too incredulous for Castiel’s liking. “What does that even <em> mean </em>?”</p>
<p>Castiel rolled his eyes, taking the shotgun he’d propped up on the seat and setting it on the top of the car as he turned. </p>
<p>“I was a Private Investigator before I started hunting,” Castiel said, and folded his arms against his chest, squinting as the last light of the sunset shone in his eyes. “So, it means exactly what it sounds like it means. What was your brother’s name?”</p>
<p>The man snapped his mouth shut. </p>
<p>Castiel cocked his head to the side. </p>
<p>“Well?”</p>
<p>“I… don’t know what name he’s going by.” </p>
<p>“That’s okay, I can dig around for aliases once I know his legal name,” Castiel explained. </p>
<p>“Well. I can’t tell it to you.”</p>
<p>Castiel frowned. </p>
<p>“What’s <em> your </em> name?”</p>
<p>This time, the man answered quickly. </p>
<p>“Dean.” </p>
<p>Castiel tilted his head. </p>
<p>“And?”</p>
<p>‘Dean’ blinked and shoved his hands in his pockets. </p>
<p>“And what?”</p>
<p>“Your <em> last </em>name?”</p>
<p>Dean’s mouth opened, and his eyes flicked around. </p>
<p>“Oh! Right. It’s, uh - it’s Winchester.” He looked back over at Castiel and smiled like he’d just said the most believable thing in the world. “Dean Winchester.”</p>
<p>Castiel leaned back against his car with a frown. </p>
<p>“Why are you lying?”</p>
<p>Dean looked affronted. </p>
<p>“I’m not!”</p>
<p>“Yes, you are.”</p>
<p>“My name is<em> Dean Winchester, </em>” he repeated, more fervently this time. “You asked, and that’s the answer.”</p>
<p>“No, it’s not. You made that name up just now,” Castiel said flatly. “You looked around you for ideas, saw my <em> Winchester shotgun - </em> ” he jerked his head back toward the gun on the car roof - “and decided to use it as a name for yourself like we’re in some sort of buddy cop movie and <em> you’re </em>the one who’s comically bad at lying.”</p>
<p>A smile threatened to appear on Castiel’s face as he watched this ‘Dean Winchester’ turn pink and start to fluster out an excuse. </p>
<p>“Look - that’s just - that’s my name, dude. I don’t know what to tell you,” Dean said, throwing his hands up in the air. “Are you gonna help me or what?”</p>
<p>Castiel looked the man over one last time and shook his head. </p>
<p>“No.”</p>
<p>“What?” Dean said. “But you said you would!”</p>
<p>Castiel rolled his eyes as he made his way around the car, grabbing the shotgun and tossing it into the backseat after he’d opened the door. He’d been planning on giving Dean a ride back into town, on account of Castiel’s car looking like it was the only one around for miles, but if Dean could get here, he could get back. </p>
<p>“That was before we had this talk,” Castiel said with an apologetic incline of his head. “I understand the need for secrecy, I really do, but my skills won’t be useful to you if you won’t even tell me names. Goodbye, Dean.”</p>
<p>“Wait!”</p>
<p>Castiel’s hand tightened on the car door and he gritted his teeth. </p>
<p>“Yes?” he asked, exhausted. </p>
<p>He would wait for just a moment, and then he’d be done. </p>
<p>“What’s <em> your </em>name?” Dean asked.</p>
<p>Castiel smiled. </p>
<p>“Dean Winchester.” </p>
<p>And with that, Castiel slipped into the driver’s seat and started the car, leaving Dean Winchester alone in the middle of nowhere. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“You’re in a much better mood this time around,” Anna said, already starting to pour him a drink. “Everything went okay, I assume?”</p><p>Castiel shrugged his shoulders as he sat gingerly down in his usual place by the bar. An upbeat song was coming from the jukebox in the corner, but it was easy enough to tune out.</p><p>“A few scrapes, but a happy ending,” he said, a hand instinctively going up to touch the cut on his cheek that he’d butterfly-bandaged back together. “It wasn’t a rougarou, by the way.”</p><p>Anna raised an eyebrow and passed over the drink. </p><p>“No?”</p><p>Castiel shook his head. </p><p>“Shifter. A nasty one.”</p><p>Anna whistled at that and leaned forward against the counter. </p><p>“Wow. They were really off-base on that one, huh?”</p><p>“I don’t blame them. He was mimicking a rougarou attack. It just took a bit more digging to find out the truth.”</p><p>Another glass was filled up with beer and Anna held it up next to Castiel’s. </p><p>“Well - cheers to a successful hunt.”</p><p>Castiel huffed out a laugh and clinked the cups together. </p><p>“Mildly patronizing but I’ll take it.” </p><p>Anna snorted and walked away from the conversation as one of the other patrons walked up to the bar. </p><p>Castiel stared into his cup of beer, half feeling like he didn’t quite deserve that congratulations, and he was probably right in that. That hunt should have been the one that killed him - and if it hadn’t been for that strange Dean Winchester that had just showed up at the last minute for a reason that was <em> completely </em> different to his own, he would have absolutely been dead. </p><p>He <em> did </em> hope that one day Dean would find his brother - <em> if </em>that story had even been true. </p><p>It felt like it was. Dean had been an awful liar, and the search for his brother had felt like the one true thing that he’d been told while they’d talked. </p><p>“Hey, Anna?” Castiel asked, once she’d finished grabbing the drink. “This is a long shot, but have you ever heard of a man named Dean Winchester?”</p><p>Anna clicked her tongue as she thought. </p><p>“I don’t think so. Why?”</p><p>Castiel shrugged. He hadn’t really expected her to.</p><p>“Just a hunter I met in Dallas. I think he was lying about his name, though.”</p><p>Anna’s expression grew to an unreasonable level of understanding. </p><p>“Ah, yeah. Listen, I’ve had men give me fake names before too and sometimes that’s just how it is the morning after and it doesn’t mean that you’re -”</p><p>Castiel held up a hand as he felt his face turn pink. </p><p>“That is… not what I meant. But thank you, Anna.” </p><p>“Oh. Well.” She ducked her head. “In any case - no. I don’t think I’ve heard that name before. Sorry, but I’ll keep an ear out.” </p><p>Castiel nodded his thanks and lifted the glass up to his lips again. </p><p>“Um. While we’re on the topic of keeping ears out…” Anna said, her eyes cast down as she began wiping down the counter. “Thought I’d let you know that Naomi dropped by a couple days ago. Asked if you’d been around recently.”</p><p>Castiel set the cup back down as an uneasy sensation settled in his stomach with the beer. </p><p>“I told her no.”</p><p>Castiel grimaced. </p><p>“Thank you. I’ll be on my way soon.”</p><p>“You ever gonna tell me what happened between you two? You were great hunting partners. Saved a lot of people.” </p><p>Castiel tossed some bills on the counter and let out a long sigh. </p><p>“Just... a difference of opinion,” he muttered, knowing full well that it was the understatement of the century.</p><p>-</p><p>Some would call it pressing his luck, but Castiel was already in Kansas looking for signs of a witch when he stumbled on what was probably a vampire’s nest just a few towns over. </p><p>That “probably” had quickly turned into “definitely” after a day of poking around and well, it wasn’t the <em> smartest </em> idea in the world to take on an entire vampire nest by oneself, but Castiel didn’t have a hunting partner anymore, so oneself would have to do. </p><p>Castiel parked his car down the street from the vampire’s nest - an old home that had been permanently foreclosed - and let out a long breath. </p><p>He could do this. </p><p>It would take some strategizing and a decent amount of luck, but - </p><p>There was a tap on his car window. </p><p>Castiel turned quickly to see - not the policeman he’d been half-expecting to have to explain his presence to - but the one and only Dean Winchester, waving at him with an annoying little smile on his face. </p><p>“Hey there, stranger,” Dean said, loud enough for Castiel to hear him through the glass barrier between them. “You’re not planning on taking on an entire vampire nest by yourself, are you?”</p><p>Castiel rolled the window down a few inches.</p><p>“Are you <em> following </em>me?” he demanded, and hoped that Dean had a good view of the machete he kept lying on the front seat. </p><p>Dean paused for a moment. </p><p>“Unless you’d believe that this is one hell of a coincidence,” he said, and had the audacity to <em> wink.  </em></p><p>“Go away,” Castiel said, and wished he wasn’t the only one in the vicinity that would have had to obey a phrase like that. “I have work to do.”</p><p>“Actually, you don’t!” Dean said brightly, and Castiel squinted at him. “I figured you were going to go on another suicide mission so I went ahead and took care of it for you.”</p><p>Castiel opened the car door with an angry shove and stood at his full six-foot stature, with a glare he’d been told by many was incredibly intimidating.</p><p>“You <em> what </em>?”</p><p>Despite the pose, Dean continued to smile at him.</p><p>“I took care of it. There were fifteen vampires in there, by the way. You would have been major toast, dude.” Everything about Dean’s demeanor -  from his smile to his puffed out chest - made it seem like Dean felt extremely proud of this announcement. “And now you don’t have to. You’re welcome - again.”</p><p>Castiel wasn’t sure what part was the most absurd - the fact that Dean was claiming to have taken out fifteen vampires all by himself, or that he thought Castiel would be happy about that. </p><p>This random stranger was <em> babying </em> him. </p><p>“<em> Look,” </em>Castiel said venomously, “I don’t know who you think you are, but I didn’t want that and I didn’t need that. Stop following me and leave me the hell alone.”</p><p>Dean’s brow furrowed like he was trying to think something through.</p><p>“I’m just trying to help,” he said, like that should explain everything.</p><p>“I don’t <em> need </em> help,” Castiel hissed. “I <em> need </em>you to go away.”</p><p>“You <em> do </em>need help,” Dean said, still frowning. “Why are you denying it?”</p><p>A sudden, cold thought crept into Castiel’s mind. </p><p>“Did Naomi put you up to this?” he asked, sticking out a finger and touching it to Dean’s chest. “Because you can tell her that she’s the <em> last </em> person I would accept any sort of help from, and -”</p><p>Dean held up his hands. </p><p>“Whoa, whoa, I don’t know who ‘Naomi’ is, dude. I’m just - I’m trying -” Dean was using his hands animatedly as he tried to speak - “I want your help, so I thought that if I helped you, you’d want to help me back just like last time - and I really <em> was </em> saving your life. Those things would have eaten you alive because fifteen vampires is definitely worse than one shapeshifter and you froze up back there with just the one -”</p><p>“Jesus Christ,” Castiel muttered, interrupting him and rubbing at his forehead in frustration. </p><p>“No - still Dean. But I hear the resemblance is uncanny.” </p><p>This man was sent to annoy him to death. </p><p>“Like I said before,” Castiel said, walking around to the other side of the car and pulling out his blade, “I can’t help you if you won’t tell me the truth. Finding someone without a name is like finding a needle in a haystack.”</p><p>“What about like - facial recognition stuff? That’s a thing, right?” Dean asked hopefully, following behind Castiel like an excitable puppy. </p><p>Castiel looked at Dean, and then down at himself, taking in the ragged jeans he was wearing, a t-shirt he’d grabbed from a second-hand store, and a dark denim jacket that had <em> mostly </em>been cleaned of blood, and looked back.</p><p>“Do I <em> look </em> like someone with facial recognition software?” </p><p>Dean shrugged. </p><p>“I don’t know. That’s why I asked.”</p><p>Castiel rolled his eyes, and turned around, walking away from Dean and towards the abandoned home. </p><p>“Hey! What are you doing? I said I took care of it already!”</p><p>Castiel ignored him in favor of stalking up to the front yard and peering inside a window. </p><p>Even just from Castiel’s line of sight, he could see several bodies littering the floor. No heads appeared to be removed, the way hunters usually took care of vampires. </p><p>“See? Taken care of.” </p><p>Castiel turned and squinted at Dean, then made for the front door.</p><p>“Ah, you don’t have to -”</p><p> The door creaked open and laying on the ground before them were four or five bodies, heads still intact, but where eyes usually could be found were two black sockets of charred flesh, some still smoking - and they were very, very, dead. </p><p>“Told ya,” Dean said from somewhere behind Castiel, but his voice was softer and more tentative, like he was waiting on Castiel’s reaction. </p><p>“<em> You </em> did this?” Castiel asked, turning slowly, one part horrified and another part <em> deeply </em>curious. Nothing about Dean was adding up. Nothing made sense. So much about him was an obvious lie, but some of it was ominously true, and those parts made him the most nervous. If Dean could take out fifteen vampires the way that he did, and still not have a scratch on him… what else could he do? </p><p>Castiel stared.</p><p>“Who are you?”</p><p>Dean let out a breath.</p><p>“My name is Dean. I’m looking for my brother... and I need your help.” </p><p>Castiel’s eyes flicked from the burned bodies, back to Dean, and rephrased his question. </p><p>“<em> What </em> are you?”</p><p>Dean flinched. </p><p>“Well, uh, I’m… an angel.” </p><p>Castiel stared at Dean, waiting for any sign that he was kidding, or maybe just wildly, wildly, out of touch with reality. </p><p>“...of God?”</p><p>Dean did a half-shrug. </p><p>“Yeah, technically. Not that he’s been around for a while - but that’s kind of besides the point.”</p><p>Castiel blinked and tilted his head, his machete falling limp at his side. </p><p>“Like from the bible?” Castiel clarified, taking in Dean’s less-than-angelic appearance. Not that he wasn’t, you know, <em> attractive </em> - it was just that the last thing he expected of a holy being was jeans, flannel, and a leather jacket. “A ‘do not be afraid because I am a terrifying being of flame and wings’ sort of angel?” </p><p>Dean glanced down at himself and huffed. </p><p>“Well, clearly this is just a vessel.”</p><p>“Clearly,” Castiel repeated flatly. </p><p>It was Dean’s turn to squint. </p><p>“You don’t believe me.”</p><p>“I stopped believing in angels a very long time ago.” </p><p>Dean took a half-step back. Something subtle tugged at the corners of his lips as he eyed Castiel in a way he hadn’t yet, but Castiel couldn’t pinpoint what had changed. The subtlety shifted to a small smile as he took even more steps back. </p><p>“Well," Dean said, "do not be afraid or whatever…’cause I <em> am </em> a terrifying being of flame and wings -”</p><p>The lights of the home began to flicker. </p><p>The ground began to shake. </p><p>And then the lights went out completely. </p><p>Castiel’s heart was pounding and he could <em> taste </em> ozone in the air as the hairs on the back of his neck and arms stood up on end. There was silence, just long enough for Castiel to draw in a breath - and then, a flash in front of him. Castiel fell backwards onto the floor while he stared at Dean, who was standing exactly where he’d been moments before, only now there was a pair of huge wings made from light and shadow and things he didn’t have a name for. </p><p>Dean’s eyes burned a bright blue above his knowing smirk.</p><p>“- and it’s cool as hell.”</p><p>
  
</p><p>The lights turned back on, and everything returned to the way it was before, but nothing in Castiel’s life was going to be the same.</p><p>“Alright,” Castiel managed, his voice higher than usual on the spectrum of sound. “So, you’re an angel.”</p><p>Dean scratched at the back of his neck and offered another shrug. </p><p>“I’m an angel.” Dean took a step forward and held out a hand to Castiel, who was still sitting where he’d fallen back on the floor. “Now, could you <em> please </em>tell me your name?”</p><p>Castiel regarded the outstretched hand, eyeing it for any signs of the blue and white energy that he’d seen very much present just a few moments before, but now there was nothing. It was just a hand. He took it, and Dean lifted him up easily. </p><p>Castiel cleared his throat. </p><p>“Castiel.”</p><p>Dean raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“What?” Castiel asked, ready to defend the name to <em> an angel of God, apparently. </em></p><p>“Nothing, just - Castiel’s a demonic name,” Dean said with a smile. “Irony’s a bitch of a thing.” </p><p>Castiel pulled his hand back and swallowed, trying to internalize that he’d just held the hand of an angel. He’d heard the demonic thing only once before - a theology professor he’d interviewed once back when he was a PI. Not many people knew about Castiel the demon, but an angel would, obviously. </p><p>“Angels can swear?” was all he could say to that. </p><p>Dean rolled his eyes. </p><p>“I don’t see ‘thou shalt not swear’ as one of the commandments, so, yeah. Angels can swear as much as they fucking want,” Dean said emphatically, but his eyes did briefly flick upwards, so Castiel had to assume that maybe Dean was one of few who did. “So, will you help me now?”</p><p>Castiel gaped at him. </p><p>“What can <em> I </em> do that an angel can’t?” </p><p>Dean’s mouth opened, and then closed it as he glanced around them, the door to the house still open and bodies still strewn about. </p><p>“We should find somewhere to talk.”</p><p>-</p><p>Castiel drummed his fingers anxiously along the steering wheel as he drove his car along the highway, his mind in a million different places, but mostly focused on the strange man - or not man - in the seat next to him. </p><p>This was stupid. </p><p>He was making another stupid decision and it was probably going to bite him in the ass eventually, and yet, here he was <em> still </em> making it. </p><p>On the one hand, this definitely wasn’t a ploy by Naomi, which had been his top theory, but that didn’t mean this was safe. An angel was coming to a human for help, which didn’t exactly bode well. </p><p>“How long until we get there?”</p><p>Dean was staring out of the window, watching buildings and trees pass by them like he was a kid on his first car ride. </p><p>“However long it takes,” Castiel answered. </p><p>Silence fell between them. </p><p>“What are these marks?”</p><p>Castiel drew his eyes away from the road briefly to see Dean looking up at the roof of his car where dozens of tallymarks were crudely scratched into the top and lined up in rows on the left and the right side. </p><p>“Not important.” </p><p>“Well, <em> now </em> they’re interesting.”</p><p>“Too bad.” </p><p>Castiel pulled off the highway and the grungy motel he had checked into the day before finally came into view. With any luck, he and Dean could have an honest conversation, and maybe Castiel would wake up at any time to figure out that this had all been one big, crazy dream and he was back in his apartment in Fresno, loading up pictures of a cheating husband to send to his wife.</p><p>The drive continued, no end to the dream in sight. </p><p>He pulled up to the parking lot, and felt his heart stop as he saw a much-too-familiar-looking car in the parking lot.  </p><p>Castiel slammed on the brakes and turned to face Dean. </p><p>“Turns out we can’t go to my motel. And we need to get far, far, away from here.”</p><p>Dean looked bewildered. </p><p>“What? Why?”</p><p>“We just can’t,” Castiel said through gritted teeth and pulled the car back out of the parking lot, and began driving aimlessly into the night. This was <em> not </em>a discussion that he was going to be having with an angel of God, which - </p><p>Castiel wasn’t sure if he should be hopeful or terrified of an angel finding out about him. </p><p>Would Dean think it was a trivial thing? Would he try to use it somehow?</p><p>Undoubtedly. Everyone who found out about it tried to use it. </p><p>Humans and non-humans alike.</p><p>“If you don’t mind trading distance for security, I know of a safehouse nearby you can crash at,” Dean said. “It’s big and empty.”</p><p>“A safehouse? What kind of safehouse?”</p><p>“It’s an old bunker, maybe a half an hour drive from here,” Dean explained. “Used to belong to the Men of Letters but it’s been empty for decades. Sometimes heaven just keeps tabs on stuff like that.” </p><p>Castiel frowned, trying to make sense of the words Dean had just said. Men of Letters? Heaven keeping track of stuff? </p><p>“Fine, yes. That’ll work as long as no one but us can get in,” Castiel said, trying to calm his rapidly beating heart. He’d trade whatever as long as he could keep an impenetrable wall between him and Naomi. </p><p>“Great!” Dean pointed towards the freeway entrance that was coming up. “That way. Unless you’d rather me fly us there.”</p><p>Castiel whipped his head around. </p><p>“You can - of course you can. <em> Of course </em> you can <em> fly </em>! Why not!” Castiel said, gripping the wheel tightly and pressing on the gas. “You’ve got wings!”</p><p>Dean blinked. </p><p>“Is that a yes to the flying?”</p><p>“No!”</p><p>Dean held up his hands in surrender, clearly not expecting Castiel to be so opposed. </p><p>“Just keep giving me directions,” Castiel said with his last shred of sanity. “And make sure we’re not being followed.”</p><p>-</p><p>When Dean had mentioned a bunker, Castiel had expected a sort of small, bare-minimum, survival-type safe-house. Instead, what he was looking at was the interior of an outdated, but fairly lavish underground living space lined with books, weapons, and security protocols. </p><p>“What the hell is this place?” Castiel whispered, and even that felt like it echoed in the vast emptiness that surrounded them. </p><p>Everywhere he looked there were echoes of past memories, moments of almost-life that didn’t exist anymore. </p><p>“Like I said,” Dean walked over to a table and wiped a finger along it, studying the dust he picked up, “an old bunker for the Men of Letters. This is all that’s left of them, though.”</p><p>“What happened to them?” Castiel asked, partially worried that something in this bunker had been what finished them off. </p><p>“Life,” Dean said with a shrug. “And Death. When you play with fire long enough you get burned.”</p><p>Castiel hummed and pulled out a chair from the table and sat down gingerly, half expecting the wood to collapse under him, but it held strong. </p><p>“Alright,” he said, dropping his head in his hands and rubbing at his eyes. “Alright. We’re safe. And you owe me some explanations.”</p><p>Castiel looked up as the sound of another chair being pulled out and saw Dean sitting across from him, palms facing upward as he shrugged his shoulders. </p><p>“What do you want to know?”</p><p>What did he want to know? What <em> didn’t </em> he want to know? Here he was sitting across from an Angel of the Lord who needed his help, and he was just a failed hunter. </p><p>“What can I do to help you that an angel can’t?” </p><p>Dean leaned back and scratched at the back of his neck. </p><p>“Well. Okay. I guess I’ll start at the beginning.” Dean let out a breath and adjusted his seat. “My brother’s name is Sam. Samael, technically, but Sam. He, uh, he’s always been pretty attached to earth, so he visited a lot more frequently than most angels. So, I’m saying it’s not <em> weird </em> for him to be gone a lot, but he’s never been gone for this long before.”</p><p>Dean tapped his fingers against the chair rhythmically. </p><p>“Normally that’d be fine, but I can’t - I can’t <em> sense </em> him anymore. He won’t answer my calls and I can’t hone in on him like I usually can. It’s weird, and it’s not like him. My, uh, my superiors think he cut out his Grace to be with humans, but if he did… I don’t think he would have done it without telling me first.” </p><p>“You have superiors?” Castiel asked curiously.</p><p>“Unfortunately.” Dean said it with an eye-roll.</p><p>“And they asked you to find him?”</p><p>Dean clicked his tongue a few times and avoided Castiel’s eyes. </p><p>“I mean, not in so many words.”</p><p>Castiel raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“How many words?”</p><p>“Well - none.”</p><p>Castiel let out an amused breath and rubbed at his eyes again. </p><p>“You’re not supposed to be here, are you?” </p><p>“<em> Technically </em> they didn’t say I <em> couldn’t </em>.” Dean waved a hand dismissively. “Anyway, that’s my problem to deal with, not yours.”</p><p>Castiel stared back at him and rested his head in his hand, trying to figure out how to ask Dean about the most obvious answer.</p><p>“Can angels die?” Castiel asked cautiously.</p><p>“Yeah,” Dean said. “But Sam’s not dead.”</p><p>“Dean. You should at least consider -” </p><p>“He’s not dead,” Dean said again. “He’s just… human or something. That’s why I can’t sense him. That was his vessel in that picture, Castiel. Sort of, at least. What are the chances that he’d pop up like that right when I’m looking for him?”</p><p>Castiel’s lips thinned and kept his thoughts to himself on that topic. He’d had plenty of clients who managed to warp all sorts of answers to their line of thinking when the simplest solution was all that was needed. He wasn’t entirely sure how angels worked, however, so maybe Dean had a point. </p><p>“So, if I’m to understand you,” Castiel said slowly, “you want me to help you look for an angel, the human way, with just a name not related to the… body, and a face.”</p><p>Dean looked up at him, an intense look in his eyes fading into something much softer, something more vulnerable than Castiel had yet seen in his features. </p><p>“Yes. Please.” </p><p>Castiel stared back for a few moments, then shook his head with a soft huff. </p><p>“Okay, I’ll - let’s talk more in the morning. I’m... exhausted. Are there beds here?”</p><p>Dean’s face brightened noticeably at his answer, and he shot up from his seat. </p><p>“Oh, definitely. There should be a lot around here, actually. Just take your pick.” Dean got to his feet and headed down one of the hallways, gesturing for Castiel to follow. “I think most are down here? Not totally sure because I only looked over the blueprints like, once, when I was bored up in heaven. So -”</p><p>He opened up the door on the right, and peered inside. </p><p>“Nope. Storage room.”</p><p>Castiel raised an eyebrow as Dean shut the door and made a face. </p><p>“Must be the left one.”</p><p>Castiel opened the left door and saw a well-made bed in a tidy room. A few personal objects were placed on a desk, but other than that it looked like it had been empty for years. He turned back and nodded. </p><p>“Goodnight, Dean. Which room will you be taking?”</p><p>“Oh, I - uh, don’t sleep.”</p><p>Castiel closed his eyes and took another breath. </p><p>“Of course you don’t.”</p><p>Dean winked at him good-naturedly. </p><p>“Night, Cas. We’ll talk more tomorrow.”</p><p>Castiel nodded once, closed the door, and - after a moment -  locked it. </p><p>-</p><p>Out of sheer curiosity, and maybe stupidity, Castiel turned to the source material about angels.</p><p>
  <b> <em>Psalm 103:20 </em> </b>
</p><p>
  <em> Praise the Lord, you his angels, you mighty ones who do his bidding, who obey his word. </em>
</p><p>Castiel scoffed - if that were true, then angels were just as cursed as he was. </p><p>He closed out of his research tab, shut his laptop, and went to sleep.</p><p>He’d learn more about angels in person.</p><p>-</p><p>“If I’m going to help you, then I have some requests.” </p><p>Despite the fact that he had slept in a brand new, untested place with an all-powerful being who could end his life with a wave of his hand, Castiel hadn’t slept half badly. He’d tossed and turned for some of the night, but it had been a while since he’d slept on a decently comfortable bed, and his body couldn’t help but relax just a little bit more than it was used to. </p><p>Castiel had planned this speech in the hour he’d been awake, staring at his ceiling.</p><p>“Okay,” Dean said, clasping his hands together and leaning back against the kitchen counter as Castiel inspected the cabinets for any signs of food. “Whatcha got?”</p><p>“One: I’ll do research for you when I can, but I’m not going to stop hunting. If a hunt pops up on my radar, I’m not ignoring it in favor of your wild goose chase.” </p><p>Dean shrugged his shoulders. </p><p>“Fine by me. I can go with you and help get the job done a lot faster.”</p><p>Castiel shook his head and closed a cabinet, feeling his pride well up inside him again. </p><p>“I don’t need your help, Dean. I work alone.”</p><p>Dean pursed his lips and crossed his arms in front of his chest. </p><p>“Maybe we can have a compromise here? I need to be sure that you don’t get killed by some dumbass werewolf, so that you can keep helping me find Sam.”</p><p>"I'm not the only hunter, you know," Castiel said. "You could just ask someone else."</p><p>"Right." Dean grinned. "But who's to say the next one would be as easy going as you?"</p><p>“I won’t die,” Castiel said flippantly. “I haven’t yet.”</p><p>“You were in the middle of being tortured the first time I saw you and the second time I saw you, you were going to take on fifteen vampires by yourself.” Dean raised an eyebrow. “You’re hanging on by a thread, here.”</p><p>Castiel clenched his jaw. </p><p>“I was fine. I would have been fine.”</p><p>“You’re in denial - I can work with that. <em> What if </em> I come with you and <em> don’t </em>help, but also make sure you don’t die." Dean held up his hands when Castiel started to protest. “Which I shouldn’t ever have to do, according to you. Just… consider it insurance.”</p><p>Castiel said nothing for a few moments, considering the implications of having Dean around almost constantly - having an almost-hunting partner again. It could be nice to have someone to talk at when things got difficult - even if that someone was Dean. That way, people wouldn’t look at him strangely when he just started talking to himself like he usually did.</p><p>“Fine. <em> But -” </em> Castiel turned to point a finger at Dean sternly when he started to look too happy. “- you’re <em> only </em> allowed to interfere if you know <em> for sure </em>that I’m about to die.” </p><p>Dean tapped a finger on his chin thoughtfully.</p><p>“Can I be fifty percent sure?” </p><p>“One hundred percent sure.”</p><p>“It’ll be too late by then. Sixty.”</p><p>“Ninety-nine.”</p><p>“Ninety.”</p><p>“... Ninety-two.”</p><p>Dean held out a hand and smiled. </p><p>“Ninety-two percent sure interference.” </p><p>Castiel took the offered hand against his better judgement. </p><p>“Anything else?” Dean asked, opening up the oven and peering inside.</p><p>“Yes.” Castiel pressed his hand on the oven door and closed it, staring Dean in the eyes when he looked up. “Never tell me what to do.”</p><p>Dean blinked, tilted his head to the side and opened his mouth -</p><p> “If you ever tell me what to do, we’re done,” Castiel said, not cracking a smile. “Got it?”</p><p>The hope was that Dean would take this demand as some sort of alpha-machismo bullshit - and Castiel was okay with that interpretation as long as it helped hide the truth. </p><p>Dean held up a finger. </p><p>“Can I make requests?”</p><p>“You can make requests,” Castiel affirmed. “Just never tell me what to do, and we’ll at least get along decently.”</p><p>“Alright. I get ninety-two percent sure interference rights, and you get to be the boss.” Dean nodded, but it looked like it was mostly for himself. “Sounds good to me.” </p><p>“Good,” Castiel said, and looked into the empty cabinets. “We’ll need to go grocery shopping soon.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The thing was, Castiel didn’t have a home anymore. </p><p>He had a car, a long list of motels he preferred over others, and occasionally he had a couch at Anna’s when he was in town, but it had been a long while since he’d had a place that he could call his own. </p><p>Dean kept insisting that the bunker was really, <em> really </em> abandoned and extremely safe, but staying in one place for longer than a few days felt odd. Not <em> bad, </em> but odd. </p><p>He felt like a library book that had been checked out and was stuck on someone’s shelf - waiting for the day it had to go back to what it knew - back to not quite belonging. </p><p>Castiel hadn’t really been sure that he was going to stay until he saw the library. The massive expanse of all sorts of books called out to him the moment he realized what they were, and with a bed, a roof over his head, electricity, warm water, and more books than he could read in a lifetime, Castiel stayed.</p><p>For now. </p><p>So long as there was no sign that Naomi had found him.</p><p>Most of his time was spent doing what little research he could into Dean’s brother’s vessel in an attempt to find any sign of where he could be. His first opinion - that Sam was just dead. But maybe Dean was right, and he was just wandering around as a human. </p><p>“So, explain to me what a vessel is, exactly,” Castiel said as he started the long slog of looking up businesses around the area that the ATM had picked up the shifter’s face. “This isn’t what you actually look like, right? </p><p>Dean paused in his searching through random drawers and shook his head. </p><p>“Nope. If a human like yourself saw what I actually looked like, it would probably burn your eyes out or make you go crazy.” Dean pulled a pen from the drawer he’d just opened, sniffed it, and put it back. “A vessel is just a body we can joyride for a while so that we can do stuff on earth.” </p><p>Castiel frowned and looked up from the computer. </p><p>“Does it... belong to someone?”</p><p>“Yep. Angels have to ask permission to take control first, though.” </p><p>“So, you went up to some random person and asked for permission to take their body on an adventure and they just said yes? Is he in there <em> with </em> you?” Castiel asked skeptically. He had a hard time believing anyone would be okay with riding side-saddle in their own body - angel or not.</p><p>“Well, like… <em> usually </em> that’s how it works, yeah <em> , </em>” Dean said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “But I hate sharing, so… all alone in here.”</p><p>Castiel raised an eyebrow, the work in front of him almost completely forgotten about. </p><p>“What does <em> that </em> mean?” he demanded. “Did you kick him out of his own body?”</p><p>“Well - yeah - but like -” Dean frowned and waved his hand around again - “Look, it’s complicated angel politics stuff, okay?”</p><p>Castiel shut the laptop and clasped his hands in front of himself as he waited for the rest of the explanation.</p><p>Dean let out a long sigh. </p><p>“He’s <em> fine. </em> Better than fine, actually. He made a stupid demon deal like eight years ago so that he could have a successful acting career, and because of that he was going to get dragged to hell in two years… so, I made him a counter offer when I found out he was a compatible vessel for me. He leaves earth a couple years earlier than planned, but he gets to spend forever in heaven instead of hell.” Dean shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket with a defensive shrug. “If you ask me, he’s really lucky I came knocking.”</p><p>Castiel had to wrap his mind around a few things <em> very </em>quickly as Dean spoke. Demons and demon deals were something he’d only really heard whispers about, and the concept of heaven itself was something he wasn’t sure he’d ever really believed in. But now here he was, discussing it with an actual angel. </p><p>“So,” Castiel clicked his tongue once, “you’re not dragging him along in there with you? Making him do things he doesn’t want to do?”</p><p>The last thing Castiel wanted was to force another person to fall under the same curse he was under. </p><p>“Nope. Like I said, I don’t like sharing.” </p><p>Castiel nodded once, content with that answer for now, and opened the laptop back up again. </p><p>“Well, as far as I can tell, none of the businesses in about a mile radius have anyone that looks like him on their employee page. But that’s only including the companies that <em> have </em> an employee page. This is… going to be almost impossible.”</p><p>“But ‘almost’ isn’t ‘completely’,” Dean said, pointing a finger in his direction.</p><p>Castiel sighed. </p><p>-</p><p>Another few days of searching online for any signs of Sam were proving useless. No missing persons database that Castiel could find seemed to have him listed, but his searching was being greatly hindered by the fact that he still didn’t know the vessel’s name. The angel was either purposefully good at covering his tracks, accidentally good at covering his tracks, or Castiel simply didn’t have enough information to go on to attempt to find him digitally. </p><p>Sooner or later, they were going to have to go to where the shifter had probably seen him and start attempting to find him on foot. </p><p>Meanwhile, Castiel didn’t know who was growing more restless - himself or Dean. </p><p>Dean had taken it upon himself to explore as much of the bunker as he could get access to and, being an angel, he had to fetch Castiel to scratch out some sigils that blocked him from entering one room he had found. The room didn’t turn out to be anything out of the ordinary, but Castiel kept those sigils in mind for a possible “just-in-case” scenario. </p><p>It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Dean in particular, Castiel just didn’t trust anyone.</p><p>The Men of Letters had all sorts of odds and ends that they had either collected or taken so that they wouldn’t fall into the wrong hands, and on more than one occasion Castiel had woken up to find that Dean had gotten bored during the night and discovered some object and had tinkered with it until it had summoned a herd of sheep directly into the kitchen. </p><p>Castiel’s own restlessness manifested in very thin nerves - but to be fair, how could they not when kitchen-sheep were now something he had to deal with? </p><p>
  
</p><p>“We’re going to North Carolina,” Castiel announced when Dean walked into the kitchen, holding a metallic rod in one hand that was faintly humming like a tuning fork. “What is that?”</p><p>“No fucking clue,” Dean said, and began aimlessly waving it in the air like a magic wand. “What’s in North Carolina? Something to do with Sam?”</p><p>Castiel eyed the motion warrily, ready to bolt if a sheep came hurtling towards him. </p><p>“Unfortunately not. That trail’s still cold for now. But we do have a case,” Castiel said. “A couple of people have gone missing in Rawley after their neighbors said they were acting odd. Police don’t see any sign of foul play, but they say both houses smelled… different.”</p><p>Dean raised an eyebrow and tossed the rod into his other hand. </p><p>“Like sulfur?”</p><p>Castiel opened his mouth, then frowned. </p><p>“Yes. How’d you know?”</p><p>Dean shrugged. </p><p>“Classic demonic possession, if you ask me,” Dean said. “Ever dealt with a demon before?”</p><p>Castiel slowly shook his head. He’d heard whispers from a hunter or two about demons, but mostly he hadn’t thought they’d actually existed. Heaven. Hell. He hadn’t thought any of that had actually existed. </p><p>“They’re pretty simple. Just gotta exorcise them to get them out of the vessel. <em> They </em> don’t have to ask permission, you know,” Dean added, pointing the rod at Castiel. </p><p>“If you don’t know what that does, don’t point it at me,” Castiel said, raising an eyebrow until Dean moved it. “How do you exorcise a demon?”</p><p>“You gotta get them to stand in a demon trap and read an exorcism at them.” Dean attempted to twirl the rod in his fingers, frowned as it clattered onto the floor, and crooked a finger at it, making it zoom back up into his hands. “Or just the exorcism part. But it’s easier to get them to stick around for it if they can’t move, you know?”</p><p>Castiel knew.</p><p>Dean began tapping the rod against one hand, as if hitting it would make it work somehow. </p><p>“Dean, <em> careful. </em> What if it. . . <em> curses </em>you or something?” Castiel said, and he hated the word as he felt it on his tongue. Hated even having to acknowledge its existence.. </p><p>Dean snorted, but stopped his attempts. </p><p>“Angels can’t be cursed, Cas.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. </p><p>And Castiel’s brain nearly short-circuited. </p><p>What he would give for the ability to be so flippant about the concept of a curse. </p><p>When he was younger he would often stare into space for hours, creating a scenario in his mind where he was offered the ability to remove his own burden but had to choose the cost. What <em> would </em> he give up to be free? </p><p>The pathway these thoughts led to was a dark one - Castiel learned not to allow himself hours to stare into space.</p><p>“Anything else about demons that I should know?” Castiel asked, quickly changing the subject to something he could handle thinking about, closed his laptop and set it aside. </p><p>Dean glanced at him curiously. </p><p>“How about I just take care of this one, huh? I’ll make it quick.”</p><p>“That’s not the deal,” Castiel said, crossing his hands in front of his chest. “<em> I’m </em> the hunter, here. You only get to interfere if you’re -”</p><p>“- ninety-two percent sure you’re about to die. Yeah, yeah.” Dean waved a hand. “But seeing as you’ve never fought a demon before, you’re already at like sixty percent.”</p><p>“I’m not at sixty percent,” Castiel said with an eye roll. “I’ve just got to learn how to do an exorcism.”</p><p>Dean raised an eyebrow as blue bubbles began to sprout from the rod. </p><p>“How much Latin do you know?”</p><p>Castiel shrugged.</p><p>“E pluribus unum?”</p><p>“... sixty-five percent.”</p><p>-</p><p>Castiel googled “demon” on his phone and clicked on the Wikipedia article as they filled up the car at a gas station. </p><p>“Seventy-one percent.” </p><p>Castiel turned to see Dean peering over his shoulder at his phone.</p><p>“Fuck off.” Castiel shoved his phone in his pocket and walked briskly away. </p><p>-</p><p>Castiel dumped a handful of salt into one fist and began scattering it across the hallway of the house, ignoring Dean’s pointed coughs. </p><p>“You sure you’re doing that right?”</p><p>Castiel clenched his jaw and continued tossing.</p><p>“Seventy-seven percent,” Dean muttered under his breath.</p><p>-</p><p>Dean leaned over, inspecting the sigils of the demon trap Castiel was painting, and hummed not-at-all subtly. </p><p>“Are you gonna double-check -“</p><p>“You’re just making this worse,” Castiel said through gritted teeth.</p><p>Dean held up his hands in surrender and leaned against the wall. </p><p>“Eighty-four.”</p><p>-</p><p>Castiel cursed as the demon lunged forward, much faster than Castiel had expected, and wrapped her hands around his throat, lifting him up against the wall and smiling menacingly as he dangled. </p><p>“And <em> that’s </em> ninety-two percent, amigo.”</p><p>The demon was ripped off of him, and Castiel gasped for breath as he fell back down, rubbing at his neck where the hands had cut off his air. </p><p>Dean tossed the demon into the painted trap effortlessly and waved a hand, causing a few of the symbols to glow brightly and switch places. </p><p>The demon screamed and threw herself against the barrier that now existed between them, and Castiel’s relief battled against his pride. </p><p>So, instead of forcing himself to say something to Dean, he pulled out the piece of paper he’d written the exorcism on and began to read - the least he could do was finish what he’d started. </p><p><em> “ </em> <em> Exorcizamus </em> <em> te, omnis -“  </em></p><p>The demon began to convulse. </p><p>“Shut up!” she screamed, and lashed against the barrier again.</p><p>Castiel snapped his mouth shut, staring down at the words he’d practised in his head over and over on the ride, and now he couldn’t say them. </p><p>Now, he couldn’t do anything.</p><p>Frustration boiled inside of him, threatening to explode outward - but even that choice was stolen from him - he couldn’t speak.</p><p>“You good?”</p><p>Castiel looked over at Dean, and tossed the paper over his shoulder as he slunk out of the room.</p><p>-</p><p>The sounds of demonic screaming eventually stopped as Castiel heard Dean finish the exorcism in the other room - probably had it memorized - and Castiel slumped where he sat with his back pressed against a wall. </p><p>Minutes later, Dean walked into the room, hands shoved into the pockets of his leather jacket apprehensively. </p><p>“I flew her back home,” Dean said, clearing his throat. “She’ll be okay.”</p><p>Castiel nodded once, staring down at an unimportant stain on the carpet. </p><p>“You - you did good, Cas. Especially for a first timer. Demons can be a hell of a thing - no pun intended.” </p><p>Castiel huffed out a scornful laugh, replaying how easily Dean had flung the demon into the trap with one hand. The entire hunt could have been effortless for him in a way that Castiel could never achieve. </p><p>“And just ‘cause I can see those cogs turning - you’re the one that found the demon,” Dean said, shrugging his shoulders as he sat down next to him. “That’s pretty amazing.”</p><p>Not exactly true - Castiel had a vague area to search, and Dean had forgotten to mention that he could see their true demonic faces. </p><p>Unfortunately, the demon’s last command to Castiel was still holding.</p><p>“You shouldn’t be too hard on yourself, okay?” Dean nudged Castiel’s shoulder. “Lots of hunters have partners. In fact, the ones that do live longer - so I’m told. And an angel partner? Dude. You’re set.”</p><p>Castiel closed his eyes.</p><p>“Hey. Talk to me.”</p><p>Castiel let out a breath as he felt Dean’s words release him from the demon’s. </p><p>An order, but not an intentional one.</p><p>“I’m sorry,” Castiel murmured, glancing away. “I… have a hard time… with people.”</p><p>“Fair enough. Humans are weird.” </p><p>Castiel chewed on his lip. </p><p>Trust didn’t come easily to him anymore. He doubted it ever would again. </p><p>He’d been cursed in a way that made people reveal their true colors to him, and it only took one time to learn that people were awful. </p><p>People wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage. </p><p>So, being alone was better. </p><p>“You remember that I’m an Angel of the Lord, right?” Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at him. </p><p>Castiel rolled his eyes. </p><p>“I am constantly reminded.” </p><p>“I can do a lot. Not to brag or anything but like - wow. I’m incredible.” The light tone in Dean’s voice shifted to something more serious. “If I can admit when I need help, why can’t you?” </p><p>Castiel said nothing, this time not because of an order, but because he had nothing to say. </p><p>Dean just didn’t understand - he couldn’t. An all-powerful angel with freedom to do whatever he wanted whenever he wanted. He couldn’t even be cursed - he’d said so himself. </p><p>Not only would they never be on the same page, they’d forever be a dictionary’s length apart with Castiel in the letter ‘A’ and Dean at the tailend of ‘Z’.</p><p>“Guess I’m just human,” Castiel said, and pushed himself up off the floor. “C’mon. We should head back.”</p><p>He caught a glimpse of Dean’s slight frown as he turned away and walked towards the door, but didn’t let himself get stuck on it. </p><p>What was one more person to disappoint?</p><p>“Let me heal you, first,” Dean said, jogging to catch up. </p><p>But Castiel didn’t want to be healed. </p><p>He could feel the bruises that were soon going to form around his throat where the demon had tried to choke him, and on his arms and legs where he’d clattered to the floor. He wanted to sit with them as a reminder to his failure - an excuse to try harder next time. </p><p>The curse said otherwise, and Castiel clenched his jaw as he paused in his steps, and allowed Dean to press two fingers against his forehead, instantly taking away the pain he deserved. </p><p>Castiel didn’t thank him, only started walking again. </p><p>The two of them made their way out to the car in silence. The sound of the car doors slamming shut was all that cut the tension, and then it was just them and the radio. </p><p>Castiel turned when he caught Dean staring at him out of the corner of his eye, and raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>Dean said nothing and only glanced up pointedly at the lines of tally marks carved into the roof of the car. </p><p>Castiel <em> should </em> have done nothing - should have ignored the look and moved on. Instead, he set his jaw, pulled out his knife, and carved a mark next to the growing number of tally’s on the right, staring at Dean as he did so.</p><p>“Interesting,” Dean said, and put his feet up on the dash. </p><p>Castiel put away the knife, and began to drive. </p><p>Dean saving him hurt his pride, of course. </p><p>But what hurt more was knowing how easily he’d done it, how simple it was for Dean to pull him out of a difficult situation <em> and </em> heal him - and he wasn’t doing it for anyone else. </p><p>Just for a human who didn’t deserve it. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Finding any trace of Sam was proving to be the most difficult PI case Castiel had ever taken on. It made sense, as it was arguably also the case with the least information he’d had to start with.</p><p>But he didn’t like failure, so that didn’t make him feel any better. </p><p>He’d get a new lead to try out every once in a while, only for it to ultimately hit a dead end that frustrated both him and Dean - though Dean was better at hiding his frustration than Castiel was.</p><p>During their weeks together in the bunker, Castiel had quickly realized that Dean wasn’t used to being alone the way that Castiel had grown accustomed to. </p><p>Up in heaven he’d probably always had Sam or other angels to talk to, but down here it was just Castiel - and Castiel was well aware that he wasn’t the best company. </p><p>Even so, Dean would often try to talk him into staying up later after he’d announced he was going to sleep, and on more than one occasion, Castiel was certain that he’d dropped something loud outside of his door in hopes that it would wake him up earlier. </p><p>Castiel understood the need for company - he really did. </p><p>But he <em> needed </em> some time to himself. </p><p>To avoid getting a migraine, Castiel decided to take a few hours out of every Thursday to go and do something by himself - no Dean allowed. </p><p>Luckily Dean had agreed to it without much arguing. </p><p>“Just don’t die on a grocery run,” he’d said. “That’d be embarrassing.”</p><p>Castiel had frowned at him as he felt the curse squirm inside of him, trying to figure out a proper interpretation of that specific order and how to be obedient to it. </p><p>Orders like this one were always difficult to deal with, and most outcomes had to do with his own interpretation of what had been said to him. “Don’t die on a grocery run” was obviously not something that he could guarantee, but it <em> unfortunately </em> meant that he would be driving <em> exactly </em>the speed limit on the way there, taking the safest route, and avoiding anything that seemed the slightest bit risky.</p><p>So, even his private Thursdays had Dean’s order lingering above it.</p><p>There was a bookstore in Lawrence that he’d recently grown fond of called <em> Signs of Life. </em>It was quiet. There was coffee. There were books. Sometimes there was a cat. </p><p>Castiel ran his hand down the spine of a newly purchased <em> Vonnegut </em> as he walked back to his car, book in one hand, coffee in the other, and the slow setting of the sun behind him. </p><p>Though he’d been using the bookstore for alone-time, he’d been thinking. </p><p>If he wanted to make any progress on finding Dean’s brother, he was going to have to go back to Dallas and ask around. Maybe show the picture of Sam to some of the businesses that were located near the ATM and maybe, just <em> maybe </em> he’d be able to make more headway on this -</p><p>“Castiel Novak?”</p><p>Castiel stopped, and turned. </p><p>Not far behind him was a man in a pale-grey suit, blue and red-striped tie, and an expression that Castiel had seen on countless bureaucrats that he’d worked for in the past. Everything was beneath him, especially Castiel.</p><p>“Maybe,” Castiel said carefully, setting his coffee on the roof of his car. “Who’s asking?”</p><p>The man glanced down at the pavement and lifted one corner of his mouth in a way that Castiel assumed was supposed to be a smile before locking eyes again. </p><p>“They call me Arthur.” He spoke in a clipped British accent. “I assume Dean’s told you nothing about me?”</p><p>Any thoughts of this man being an old client went out the window at Dean’s name.</p><p>“Dean who?” Castiel said, leaning against the side of his car. </p><p>Arthur tilted his head ever so slightly. </p><p>“Now, there’s no need for that. I know you’re with him and I know you’re about to go back to him.” Arthur clasped his hands in front of himself. “I need you to convince him to come back to heaven.” </p><p>Of course. </p><p>Another angel.</p><p>For a moment, Castiel tensed and waited for the compulsion of a command to overcome him, but it didn’t. Someone telling him a need of theirs wasn’t the same as a demand.</p><p>So far so good, but the sooner the conversation was over, the better.</p><p>“Convince him yourself,” Castiel said and moved to open the door. </p><p>The sound of wings flapping filled the air around him, and in the blink of an eye, Arthur was standing next to him, one hand firmly keeping the car door shut. </p><p>Castiel was really beginning to loathe angels. </p><p>“I can’t,” Arthur said, his smile tight. “He won’t listen to me, and he’s cut off all communication to and from his superiors. I need <em> you </em> to tell him to come back. He’ll listen to you.” </p><p>It was everything Castiel could do to stop himself from laughing in Arthur’s face. </p><p>“If you think he’ll listen to me then you don’t know him very well.” Castiel tugged on the car door. It didn’t budge. “I can’t help you.”</p><p>“Unfortunately, I’m very aware of Dean’s pig-headedness. Egypt was a nightmare.” Arthur took his hand off the car door and held it up in one jerked motion as if it was a white flag. “Look. He seems to be… fond of you. He may listen more than you think.”</p><p>This time, Castiel snorted. </p><p>“He’s not <em> fond </em>of me. He’s using me. There’s a difference.” Castiel swung the door open and slid into the front seat before Arthur could change his mind. “If you want him back so bad - help him find his brother.” </p><p>“Samael doesn’t <em> want </em>to be found,” Arthur said, just as Castiel slammed the car door shut. </p><p>Castiel let out a breath and started the car. </p><p>“He’s cut out his own Grace -” Castiel swore as Arthur appeared in the seat next to him, “ - and in doing so, renounced his angelic heritage. Even if we <em> wanted </em>to find him, we would only be wasting valuable resources on someone we’re better off without, now.”</p><p>“Get out of my car,” Castiel said, staring straight ahead. “I’ll see what I can do, alright? I doubt he’ll listen, but if it will get you to leave me alone, I’ll pass along your message.”</p><p>Arthur gave a satisfied nod. </p><p>“Thank you, Castiel. But, er, it’s better if you don’t mention our meeting. I would make it seem like him leaving was all your idea, if I were you.”</p><p>Castiel smiled, noting the lack of a direct order. </p><p>“Of course.”</p><p>-</p><p>“I met your boss today.”</p><p>Dean’s head shot up as Castiel walked down the steps into the bunker. </p><p>“What?” </p><p>“Said his name was Arthur? He wants you to go home.” Castiel sat down across the table, not failing to notice that Dean was using his laptop. “You guessed my password again?”</p><p>“Yeah, it was <em> GoAwayDean </em> . He told you to tell me to go home?” Dean rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t he have anything better to do? It’s not like he <em> likes </em> me.” </p><p>“He didn’t tell me to, he asked me to,” Castiel clarified, and pulled his computer away from Dean. “I think he just doesn’t like being disobeyed, so I suppose that makes you an extra big thorn in his side.”</p><p>“What can I say,” Dean shrugged, “following orders was never my forte.”</p><p>Cas tried not to look visibly irritated. </p><p>Lucky Dean. </p><p>“Anyway, I think we should head to Dallas and show Sam’s picture around. Maybe someone will recognize his vessel. We need <em> something </em>to work with besides a face.”</p><p>“Great!” Dean stood, and started rolling his shoulders back. “I can fly us there in no time.”</p><p>“We’re driving,” Castiel said, raising an eyebrow at the current sentence in the search bar of the browser: <em> How to get rid of a lot of moths? </em></p><p>“C’mon, Cas. What’s the <em> point </em> of having wings if you never let me use them?” Dean held out a hand in his direction. “We’ll pop in, find out his name, and pop back. No muss, no fuss. No car ride.”</p><p>“It’s just a seven hour drive,” Castiel said, ignoring the offered hand. “You can save your energy for something else.”</p><p>“It’s not energy,” Dean said with a shake of his head, like he was about to explain something simple to a child. “It’s Grace. It’s what makes me an angel. Doesn’t run out or anything. Sometimes <em> really </em> big things can make me tired, but like flying and healing and stuff like that? That’s nothing.”</p><p>Castiel frowned. </p><p>“Healing people is nothing?”</p><p>Dean shrugged his shoulders, and shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. </p><p>“Sure, I guess. Never had an issue with it when I gotta.”</p><p>Castiel said nothing - he didn’t know what he was supposed to say to that. </p><p>“So, can I fly?”</p><p>“No,” Castiel said with a shake of his head. </p><p>He needed to drive, not think more about the incredible power angels apparently had access to. </p><p>Dean huffed out a breath and slumped his shoulders.</p><p>“You know, if angels don’t use their wings at least once a week, they die an agonizing death.”</p><p>“I’ll be sure to give a <em> very </em> moving eulogy at your funeral.” Castiel grabbed his denim jacket and pulled out his car keys as he made his way back up the stairs. “‘Here lies Dean Winchester. That’s not his name, and that’s not his body, but he <em> did </em> know a lot about moths right before he passed’.”</p><p>“That was <em> important research </em> , you know, <em> ” </em>Dean huffed, and followed him up the stairs. “Also, don’t go into the bathroom for a few days. There are moths.”</p><p>Castiel stopped in his tracks and his grip around his keys tightened as he felt the order take hold. The bathroom was officially off-limits to one Castiel Novak for whatever his definition of ‘a few days’ was. </p><p>What the <em> hell </em>was he supposed to do for the next few days when he needed to use the bathroom?</p><p>
  <em> “Dean -” </em>
</p><p>“I’m sorry!” Dean said, interpreting his response incorrectly. “I didn’t know that thing could also summon moths!”</p><p>Castiel gritted his teeth and took a deep breath. </p><p>It was fine. </p><p>He’d just have to drag out the Dallas trip and make it a few days long - then they could return and that would still satisfy the order. </p><p>“Maybe you should stop playing with things you don’t understand, Dean,” Castiel muttered, and started walking again. </p><p>Dean mumbled a half-hearted apology as they left the bunker, but not for what Castiel truly wanted one for.</p><p>
  <em> - </em>
</p><p>In hindsight, Castiel should have just let Dean fly them. </p><p>A simple seven hour drive turned into constantly talking himself down from actually trying to get Dean to go back to heaven just to get a few minutes of blessed silence.</p><p>Instead, he was subjected to the Heaven Fail Collection, narrated by Heaven’s most tactless angel. </p><p>“- so <em> I </em> told them that was a stupid reason to wipe a whole city off of the face of the earth - lots of paperwork to get all those souls assigned to the right place all at once -  but I was clearly outvoted.” Dean was tapping his shoe against the windshield of the car as he sprawled out, chair leaning all the way back. “But don’t even get me <em> started </em> on how many stupid decisions they’ve made. Like - if God’s all-powerful then he can take care of this himself. I don’t know why <em> we </em>have to do the dirty work for humans just being humans, you know?”</p><p>Castiel stared ahead, watching the paint lines on the road fly by as Dean’s words chipped away at his patience.</p><p>Every time he thought he might actually <em> like </em> Dean just a little, he was reminded just how callous and careless he was towards what <em> seemed </em> to be anyone that wasn’t himself.</p><p>Especially humans.</p><p>He had so much power. </p><p>So much potential for good in him. </p><p>All wasted.</p><p>“And I was like, ‘Look, I can just go down there and perform some miracles and they’ll be good for another generation or two - we don’t need to get <em> dramatic </em>-”</p><p>“So, why don’t you?” Castiel snapped. </p><p>Dean turned and frowned. </p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Why don’t you perform miracles down here?” Castiel asked, trying to concentrate on the road, and failing miserably. Sure, his people skills were a little rusty at the moment, but he’d never thought that in his lifetime he’d have to listen to an Angel of the Lord talk about genocide like it created an incovenient afternoon for him. </p><p>“Uh,” Dean slowly leaned his chair back up into a sitting position, “I mean I’d need <em> permission </em>to -”</p><p>“There’s lots of people that could use a good miracle - a lot of people that - that have been <em> praying </em> for something. Anything.” Castiel’s grip tightened on the wheel. “Do any of you care? Or are miracles only when you need to keep us in line?”</p><p>Dean blinked, looking stunned at the turn of events. </p><p>“We’re not supposed to interfere,” he said, slowly. </p><p>“Unless you want to decimate a city, of course,” Castiel said, waving a hand at a building as they passed it. “That’s fair game. Or breaking ranks to search for your brother. You can ignore commands for that. But helping people? Saving lives? Can’t bother with that?”</p><p>“Earth - Earth is just a small part of what’s going to be happening to their souls.” Dean licked his lips, clearly sensing the rocky terrain he now found himself in. “Humans… I mean, you guys get to heaven eventually. Or hell. The time difference - it - it would be barely noticeable in the grand scheme of things if I - if an angel stepped in.”</p><p>“It would matter to <em> them </em> . It would matter to their <em> family </em> .” Castiel paused. “It would matter to <em> me </em>.”</p><p>A tense silence hung in the car; was crawling into his lungs; was suffocating.</p><p>“I work my <em> ass </em>off every day to try and stop some of the bad in this world,” Castiel clenched his jaw, “and you could do what I do faster, cleaner, and better than me - as you keep reminding me - but you don’t. You sit on a cloud and you watch people die while you snack on popcorn.”</p><p>Dean shifted uncomfortably and stared out the window. </p><p>“... we don’t eat popcorn.” </p><p>Castiel let out a frustrated breath. </p><p>“If I had the power you have…" Castiel let himself trail off - there were too many possibilities. He didn’t even know the extent of things that Dean could do, but he knew enough. “... I just wouldn’t take it for granted.”</p><p>There was another beat of silence.</p><p>“When did you stop believing in angels, Castiel?” Dean asked, and to Castiel’s surprise, his voice was almost reverent.</p><p>Castiel set his jaw.</p><p>“What angels?” </p><p>-</p><p>To make things easier, the first thing Castiel did when they arrived in Dallas was take Dean to a department store. </p><p>Sure, they could go around to nearby businesses and flash a picture around, but if they didn’t want to draw too much unwanted attention to themselves, they’d have to dress the part, and Castiel only had one passable suit. </p><p>“I think you only have about an inch on me, so that’ll make shopping for you easier,” Castiel mumbled to himself more than to Dean as he sifted through the suit rack. “Going to have to guess on shoulders, though.” </p><p>“So, why are we doing this?” Dean asked, pausing to pull a shiny maroon suit off the rack and give it an approving nod. “And can I have this one?”</p><p>“No, we need to blend in. Choose something black,” Castiel said, only taking the time to look at Dean briefly before moving on. “Agents wear black.”</p><p>Things had been a little tense since Castiel had turned their car-conversation into what it had become; Dean was more hesitant to begin conversations now, and was keeping a healthy amount of distance between the two of them. </p><p>Neither of those things were necessarily <em> bad </em>, but Castiel still felt a little guilty for blowing up the way he had - but he also didn’t think he was wrong. </p><p>He couldn’t imagine the curse that an eternal perspective must be to someone - the vapid indifference towards anything with a lifespan less than a millennia. Always looking at the bigger picture. </p><p>Not even realizing the callousness it brings.</p><p>It didn’t matter, anyway.</p><p>Soon, Dean would go back to heaven - back to his comfortable life sitting on a cloud and passing judgment on humans - and Castiel could get back to hunting alone again. </p><p>In peace and quiet. </p><p>“We’re going to be cops?” </p><p>“Mmhmm.” Castiel pulled out a plain black suit and turned back towards Dean, shaking his head at the blue plaid blazer he’d picked up. “Less ostentatious, Dean. We’re cops, not models.”</p><p>“Maybe <em> you’re </em> not, but my vessel was a model for a while,” Dean said, looking longingly at a slate-grey ensemble with an odd satiny shirt that fastened asymmetrically along the neckline. “Hel <em> -lo </em> gorgeous.”</p><p>Castiel let his eyes flick up over at Dean again, taking in the broad shoulders, the strong jawline, the freckles peppering the bridge of his nose, the unfairly green eyes -</p><p>He forced himself to look back at the rack of suits. </p><p>Obviously, he’d noticed before that Dean was attractive - it was hard not to - but it hadn’t mattered when they were doing research on Sam and hunting demons and arguing over what to do with a sudden herd of sheep in the bunker. That wasn’t a surprise to him, though. He’d always been more of a ‘person first, looks after’ kind of guy. </p><p>Not that Dean’s looks mattered, of course.</p><p>And his person-hood was arguable.</p><p>“You can model another time,” Castiel said, tossing Dean the plain suit. “Try that one on for size.”</p><p>Dean frowned at it, but eventually shrugged and shucked off his jacket. </p><p>“<em> In the changing room!” </em> Castiel said hurriedly - Dean’s shirt was already halfway off. </p><p>“Oh.” Dean put the shirt back on, grabbed the suit, and walked towards the changing rooms. </p><p>Castiel rubbed at his eyes and tried not to groan. </p><p>After taking a moment to compose himself, Castiel waited by the changing rooms. </p><p>Unfortunately for him, waiting next to him was someone who he assumed was the boyfriend of the woman who would try something on, show it off to lots of supportive wolf-whistles and whoops with each outfit reveal. Under any other circumstance it might have been fine, but now it only served as an awkward backdrop. </p><p>“Well?” Castiel called out after waiting for what felt like forever. “Does it fit?”</p><p>“I think so?” Dean’s voice came from the other side of the door, along with a rustle of clothing. “What’s it supposed to look like?”</p><p>Castiel let out a long breath. </p><p>“You can just show me if you want.”</p><p>“Okay, but don’t laugh.”</p><p>Any semblance of humor was sucked from Castiel’s lungs as he felt Dean’s words take hold. </p><p>He hadn’t been planning on it anyway.</p><p>More rustling, and then the door opened. Out stepped Dean, dark suit hugging his frame almost <em> too </em> well as he tugged on the end of one sleeve like there was any kind of chance of something being off about his entire flawless ensemble. </p><p>“It’s boring, but I guess it works,” Dean said, and patted his hands against his thighs. “How’s it look?”</p><p>Castiel could think of half a dozen synonyms for ‘perfect’, none of which he wanted to use though all of which would have been accurate. </p><p>“It’ll do.” Castiel stepped forward and threw an olive-green tie around Dean’s neck and focused solely on the task of tying it professionally. “This should also help.” </p><p>Castiel finished with the knot and stepped back, taking in his work, but mostly taking in Dean. He’d worn the same henley, flannel, leather jacket, and jeans every day since the first day they’d met. It never smelled like it was all he wore, probably due to his angelic nature, so it was probably just the shock of seeing Dean in literally anything else that was causing Castiel to stare so much. </p><p>He looked good. </p><p>“Cas?”</p><p>Castiel blinked, and brought himself back to the present. </p><p>“Yes. It’s good.”</p><p>“Hey!”</p><p>Cas turned to see the man he’d been sitting next to pointing at Dean with wide eyes. </p><p>“Aren’t you in <em> Doctor Sexy MD </em>?”</p><p>Castiel raised an eyebrow at Dean, whose smile turned a little panicked. </p><p>“Uh, I mean - y - yeah? Yeah. I was once.”</p><p>The man’s jaw dropped and he patted at his pockets until he pulled out a crumpled receipt and held it out towards Dean. </p><p>“Can I get your autograph? Please? Nurse Brady was my favorite character.”</p><p>“Ah, sure kid,” Dean said, giving Cas a wide-eyed glance. “You gotta pen?”</p><p>Castiel had to fight back any signs of amusement at Dean, the Angel of the Lord, giving out his first autograph, and looking as awkward about it as he possibly could while he did.</p><p>“Alright, yes, have a good day,” Dean said, waving at the man as he walked away, breathing deeply. “Did I do that right?”</p><p>“Beats me,” Castiel said with a shrug. “Celebrities are often odd. I’m sure you didn’t set off any alarm bells.” </p><p>“I could sense his heart rate going through the fucking roof.”</p><p>“Maybe he has a crush on your vessel.” </p><p>Dean tilted his head, considering, then looked back over to the man who was frantically texting as he also tried talking to the woman he’d been waiting for outside the changing room. </p><p>“<em> Huh </em> ,” Dean said, sounding maybe a <em> touch </em> too smug for his own good. </p><p>“Alright, Romeo,” Castiel said with an eye roll. “Let’s go buy the suit.”</p><p>-</p><p>Castiel had ripped all the tags off of the items Dean was currently wearing to save on time at checkout, and tried his best to avoid looking at Dean as they stood in line. </p><p>“This is how angels usually dress.”</p><p>Castiel risked a glance. </p><p>“Hmm?”</p><p>Dean shifted a little, looking vaguely uncomfortable. </p><p>“When angels get a vessel, nowadays. They usually dress themselves like this. Black or grey suit. Real stuffy-looking,” Dean said, tugging on a sleeve again. </p><p>Castiel frowned, remembering the suit Arthur wore - the only other angel he could reference. </p><p>“You weren’t wearing a suit.”</p><p>“I don’t really like ‘em.” Dean shrugged. “It’s supposed to be sort of a uniform. Probably to remind us of our place and stuff. I’d rather wear something that doesn’t look like I have a stick up my ass.” </p><p>Castiel cracked a small smile. </p><p>“Well, we need that look for just an afternoon. Then you’ll never have to wear it again.”</p><p>“I might be okay with that blue one. Or maroon,” Dean said, his shrug <em> too </em> casual. “Those were kinda cool.”</p><p>“Mhmm.”</p><p>“If Arthur saw me in a maroon suit he might just shit himself.”</p><p>Castiel might too, but for different reasons. </p><p>The clerk smiled at them as Castiel handed her the tags and paid for the suit, drumming his fingers against the counter as he waited for the receipt to print.</p><p>“Um, looks like the card was declined?” </p><p>For a moment, Castiel thought it was directed at him, but the voice was coming from the clerk behind him, not the one he was currently buying from. </p><p>“Oh, no, it should be - can you run it again?”</p><p>Castiel glanced behind him at the woman at the counter, with a child on her hips and a small pile of children’s clothes already in a bag. </p><p>Another beep. </p><p>“Still declined.”</p><p>“Are - are you sure? I just paid it off -”</p><p>“Have a good day, sir.” </p><p>Castiel looked back over at his own clerk and smiled as he took back the tags. </p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>He tucked the tags into his pocket as he fished out his wallet, hoping he still had some cash left - if he was any kind of good hunter, he would have thought ahead. </p><p>Castiel let out a breath when he saw what he was looking for, and palmed a fifty dollar bill as he walked over to the woman behind him and bent over not too far from where she was standing. </p><p>“Oh, excuse me,” he said, tapping her on the shoulder once, “I think you dropped this?” </p><p>Castiel handed her the bill before she could put two and two together, and smiled at her politely. </p><p>“Oh, I don’t think -”</p><p>“Have a nice day, ma’am.” He nodded, and walked towards the exit before she could say anything else, hoping that Dean would have the presence of mind to follow him and not question what had just happened. </p><p>Castiel pulled out his keys as he neared the car. </p><p>“Why’d you do that?”</p><p>Castiel shrugged and peered over the top of the car at Dean, who was frowning at him like there was a puzzle he hadn’t figured out how to piece together yet. </p><p>“Didn’t want to make a big scene over it,” he said, opened the door, and slid into the driver’s seat.</p><p>Dean followed suit, closing the door behind him. </p><p>“But like,” Dean was staring at the dashboard intently, “why did you do that at all?”</p><p>Castiel paused just before starting the car. </p><p>“Because it mattered to her.”</p><p>Dean hummed and nodded once, then put his feet on the dash as Castiel drove out of the parking lot. </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Nobody knew who Sam was. </p><p>Occasionally, someone would squint at the photo and say that they’d thought they’d seen him around before, but couldn’t remember a name or really any detail about him. </p><p>They tried the bank down the street from the ATM, the supermarket, an electronic store, three different coffee shops, and a McDonalds. </p><p>“This sucks,” Dean said, pushing open the doorway to the McDonalds roughly as they left it and shoving his hands into the pockets of his slacks. “How can <em> no one </em> know his name?”</p><p>“Really easily, actually,” Castiel said. “We don’t even know if he lives anywhere near here.”</p><p>“People have seen him before, though,” Dean pointed out, “That’s something, right?”</p><p>“Maybe.” Castiel shrugged. “Or they recognized him from when that shifter was snooping around in his form.”</p><p>Dean only grunted in response. </p><p>“One more stop,” Castiel tugged Dean away from the direction of their car and pointed to a pet store across the street, “then we can get a motel and try again tomorrow.”</p><p>Another grunt, but Dean allowed himself to be manhandled into crossing the street and entering the pet store. </p><p>The smell of animals hit Castiel’s nose at full force as he entered the small space. Birds squawked somewhere near the back of the store, and the sound of trickling water was somewhere in the near vicinity. </p><p>Castiel nodded at the woman behind the counter and flashed his badge. </p><p>“Hello. I’m Agent Daniels and this is Agent Leo,” Castiel gestured towards Dean as he flashed the badge with much less enthusiasm than he had done the first few times. “We were wondering if you could tell us whether or not you recognize the man in this photograph?”</p><p>Castiel held out the black and white photo of the shifter and the woman looked at it for just a moment before nodding. </p><p>“Yeah, he’s a regular. Why? Did he do something?” She frowned, looking more concerned than Castiel would have expected. </p><p>“No, he’s just missing,” Castiel said, trying not to sound unprofessionally excited. “If you have any information you could give us, that would help us a great deal.”</p><p>“What’s his name?” Dean blurted out, and Castiel cringed. </p><p>“We were given this photo as an anonymous tip, but no name,” Castiel said in an attempt to explain. “A name would be helpful if you have one.” </p><p>“Uh,” the woman looked between them, “yeah, it’s Jared, something that starts with a ‘p’. I can look it up for you.” </p><p>Castiel smiled warmly at her. </p><p>“Thank you.”</p><p>The woman nodded slowly, and squinted at Dean. </p><p>“Do I know you from somewhere? You look so familiar.”</p><p>Castiel glanced over at Dean, confused, but Dean only waved his hand dismissively. </p><p>“Oh, I get mistaken for some actor a lot. Don’t worry about it.”</p><p>The woman shrugged once and made her way through a backdoor labeled <em> Employees Only. </em></p><p>“Next vessel isn’t gonna be a famous guy,” Dean said and ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t go out in public like this.”</p><p>“Your life must be so difficult,” Castiel deadpanned.</p><p>Dean nodded in agreement.</p><p>-</p><p>Sam’s vessel was missing. </p><p>Well, not so much ‘missing’ as ‘told his family he had a religious awakening and was going to spend the rest of his days discovering God’ and hadn’t been seen since.</p><p>Once they had the name Castiel could look up (or hack into) his address, occupation, credit card statement, and even his grades from college. He also discovered that he owned a dog, who had been dropped off at a family member’s home before the ‘mental breakdown’. </p><p>“His credit card hasn’t even been used,” Castiel murmured as he tapped away at his laptop. </p><p>“Is that good or bad?” Dean replied, a lot closer to Castiel’s ear than he’d been expecting. </p><p>Castiel jerked forward when he realized Dean was peering from almost directly behind him, not bothering to utilize any of the other space in the motel room. </p><p>“Some personal space, Dean?” Castiel said, frowning at Dean from inches away. </p><p>Dean huffed and took a dramatic step backwards. </p><p>“Bad, mostly,” Castiel answered, once Dean was the proper distance away. “It means I can’t track his movements, and it also means he isn’t needing to purchase anything.”</p><p>“That’s not weird though, right?” Dean said, frowning slightly. “I haven’t needed to buy anything besides this suit and I could have just taken it if you’d let me.” </p><p>Castiel pointedly ignored that. </p><p>“We have a name, but other than that we’re back at square one,” Castiel said glumly, clicking through pictures he’d gathered of Sam’s vessel. </p><p>“We know he isn’t dead,” Dean said, sounding more relieved than he should have for someone who had been so emphatic that Sam was alive. “So, that’s good.”</p><p>Castiel nodded in acknowledgement. </p><p>“It is good.”</p><p>Castiel pushed his chair back and shut the laptop with a sharp exhale. </p><p>“I saw a vending machine outside. Do you want a soda?” Castiel asked, rubbing at his eyes as he tried to think through every possible pathway he had forward. He’d never tracked an angel before, and that’s what was throwing him for a loop. </p><p>“Maybe?” Dean shrugged his shoulders. “I’ve never had one.”</p><p>Castiel pointed at him and nodded, ready to spend a few sacred minutes picking out soda flavors without Dean hovering over him. </p><p>“I’ll be back in a few,” Castiel murmured, and shut the door on his way out, leaving Dean sitting on a bed with his hands in his lap.</p><p>Castiel dug around in his pocket for some spare quarters as he stood in the glowing red light of the <em> Coca-Cola </em>logo and thought about anything but soda. </p><p>It was weird, having someone with him again while he was working a case. Not that this was something he was going to get used to, but having someone to talk to that wasn’t just in his head? He remembered why he liked it. </p><p>And that was dangerous. </p><p>Besides, he hadn’t forgotten what Dean was. </p><p>Castiel absentmindedly dropped the quarters into the machine and focused on the flavors. What was the best soda to give to a being who’d never had one before? Orange? Regular Cola? Sprite?</p><p>“There’s no alcohol in there, you know.”</p><p>An icy chill ran down his spine as a voice he’d hoped he’d never have to hear again came from somewhere behind him. </p><p>Castiel pulled out a knife from the inside of his jacket and slowly turned around so it was clearly visible as he faced his old partner. </p><p>“I told you I never wanted to see or hear from you again,” Castiel said, his voice low and, thankfully, not shaking. </p><p>To her credit, Naomi looked rightly abashed, both hands held high up in the air like physical weapons were the real issue here. </p><p>“Castiel, I -”</p><p>“Shut up,” Castiel said, teeth grit together tightly. She was one of the few people who knew what her words did - any words she managed to say were potentially lethal. </p><p>Naomi pursed her lips and tilted her head to one side. </p><p>“Is that an order?”</p><p>Fury boiled inside his chest, bubbling up into his throat as his hand tightened against the knife. <em> She </em> was going to lecture <em> him </em> on giving out orders? It was a low blow and they both knew it - though it didn’t seem like she cared. </p><p>“Leave me alone, Naomi,” Castiel managed to say through clenched teeth. </p><p>Naomi raised an eyebrow. </p><p>“Two in a row - I thought you didn’t like direct orders -”</p><p>“There is a <em> difference </em> between you and I and you <em> know it.” </em> It was remarkable how easily she could get under his skin - how she knew exactly what buttons to push. “I’m not afraid to <em> make </em> you leave, Naomi.”</p><p>Castiel could see the glint in Naomi’s eye - they both knew he was bluffing.</p><p>“Castiel -” Naomi started.</p><p>“<em> Don’t -” </em></p><p>“I’m sorry.” </p><p>Castiel stood, breathing hard in the light of the coke machine as he stared down at her - hardly daring to believe his ears. Even doing nothing was dangerous - he knew it - the more words he allowed Naomi to say the worse off his situation was - but she’d just said <em> she was sorry.  </em></p><p>“I’m sorry, Castiel,” Naomi repeated, taking a small step forward. “We got off on the wrong foot here tonight, and that was my fault. Bad habits.”</p><p>Castiel still said nothing, though every part of him was telling him to run and not let her worm her way back into his head. </p><p>“I’m also sorry,” she continued slowly, “for what I did. I was wrong.”</p><p>Castiel narrowed his eyes. </p><p>“You <em> were </em>wrong. But ‘sorry’ isn’t going to bring that woman back.” </p><p>Naomi nodded once and let her gaze drop the ground. </p><p>“I know. But it’s all I have right now.” She took a breath and locked her gaze with his. “Castiel… I need your help.” </p><p>Of course. </p><p>Of course there would be a motive behind all of this - she couldn’t have <em> just </em> wanted to apologize. </p><p>“No.” </p><p>“Please, I’ve found something amazing -”</p><p>“No! I don’t work with you anymore.” Castiel began to take backwards steps towards the door. “I don’t work with <em> anyone </em>anymore. So, figure out how to do whatever on your own or with someone else, and don’t ever come near me again.”</p><p>“If you’d just <em> listen </em>- I’ve found a way to help people -” Naomi took a step forward, the lines on her face hardening into frustration. </p><p>“No!” Castiel said, and brandished his knife menacingly in front of himself. “I swear to <em> god </em>-”</p><p>“Put the knife down, Castiel,” Naomi said, taking another purposeful step forward.</p><p>“Fuck you, Naomi,” Castiel spat, and set his knife down onto the ground next to him as dread crept back into his heart. </p><p><em> Of course </em> she hadn’t meant any of it. </p><p><em> Of course </em>she tried to use his curse against him as soon as she saw things weren’t going her way.</p><p>A door opened from somewhere behind him. </p><p>“Hey, Cas - if that machine fell and killed you when a hundred monsters haven’t, I’m going to -” </p><p>Castiel turned to see Dean, his eyes flicking between the two of them and taking in a scene he hadn’t expected. Dean’s eyes flew down to the knife Castiel had just placed next to him on the ground,  and then over to Naomi, hands still raised. </p><p>Castiel turned back to see Naomi narrowing her eyes at the new arrival. </p><p>“Everything alright out here?” Dean said slowly, though he’d clearly already surmised that it was not. </p><p>“Absolutely fine,” Naomi said, voice smooth as silk. “Castiel was just telling me about how he doesn’t hunt with anyone anymore.”</p><p>Castiel was frozen to the spot - he didn’t owe her an explanation, but every interaction with her now was like walking on a minefield. All it would take is a few specially-chosen words from her to ruin his life completely. </p><p>But even if she ordered him to do something - Dean was an <em> angel. </em></p><p>Anything she tried would be biting off more than she could chew.</p><p>Castiel watched her eyes study the man behind him, sizing him up, trying to understand their relationship and whether or not he <em> knew.  </em></p><p>“Oh, well, I can clarify for him,” Dean said after a few moments of silence had hung in the air, “he doesn’t hunt with <em> losers </em> anymore.”</p><p>Castiel jumped when he felt a warm hand wrap around his wrist and ground him to the moment once more. </p><p>“It’s probably best if you leave us alone, lady.” Dean gave her a mocking salute. “But I hear the sodas from that machine are pretty good, so help yourself on your way out.” </p><p>Dean scooped up Castiel’s knife for him and gently tugged him back towards their shared room, and Castiel’s eyes never left Naomi until the door closed behind them. </p><p>“What happened? Cas, are you alright?” </p><p>Castiel nodded slowly, only half-aware that he was doing it. </p><p>Naomi was here.</p><p> She found him. </p><p>She wanted his help with something. </p><p>“Cas, you’re shaking.” </p><p>Castiel stared down and saw that his wrist was, in fact, shaking, despite Dean’s hand still being wrapped around it. </p><p>“We need to leave,” Castiel mumbled, and shakily took out the keys to his car. </p><p>“Fuck that,” Dean said, “I’m flying us home.”</p><p>“Dean -”</p><p>“You want to get away from her as fast as possible, right?” </p><p>Dean had another hand on Castiel’s shoulder now and was staring at him in concern. </p><p>Castiel could only nod. </p><p>“I’ll come back for your car later. Hold on tight, okay?”</p><p>Before Castiel could respond, warm arms wrapped around him, bringing him close to Dean’s chest and held him fast. </p><p>It felt good. </p><p>In a whirlwind, Castiel felt his feet leave the ground and his heart stop in his chest, but he couldn’t be sure that it was solely because of the mode of transport.</p><p>Castiel held tight, just like Dean had asked - but despite the accidental order, he probably would have anyway.</p><p>“You can - um. We - we’re here.” </p><p>The sounds of cars driving by on the road near the motel were gone, and the only thing Castiel could hear was the silence of the empty bunker and his heart in his throat. </p><p>He’d spent hours planning exactly what he’d say or do if he saw Naomi again - plugging his ears immediately had always been in every scenario, and he hadn’t. Part of him - the part he was ashamed of - <em> wanted </em> to hear that apology, <em> wanted </em> to hear her say that she’d changed and she was wrong. So much so, that he’d risked her using her words against him. </p><p>“Cas, hey. Are you okay?”</p><p>Gone was the warm embrace as Dean stepped away and frowned at him. Castiel couldn’t remember the last time someone had been concerned about him, and he almost didn’t recognize the look. </p><p>“I’m fine,” Castiel murmured, and took a steadying breath. </p><p>“You’re not.”</p><p>“I’ll <em> be </em> fine,” Castiel clarified, and finally noticed that Dean had flown them directly into Castiel’s room. “Right now I’m just tired.”</p><p>“Okay.” Dean looked like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. “Was that someone I should be worried about?”</p><p>Castiel shook his head slowly and looked longingly at his bed. </p><p>“Just an ex-hunting partner.” Castiel chewed on his lower lip. “Thank you, Dean. I’m - I’m sorry you had to see that.”</p><p>“Is she who you were running from before?”</p><p>Castiel let out a sharp breath, remembering how stressed he’d felt that night just seeing Naomi’s car. If only he’d known he could go into a complete panic at seeing all of her. </p><p>“Yeah. I’m - I’m going to go to sleep now, Dean… thanks again.”</p><p>Dean shrugged his shoulders as he walked out of the room, pausing just before he closed it behind him. </p><p>“What did she do?”</p><p>“Goodnight, Dean,” Castiel said, and pushed the door shut the rest of the way. </p><p>-</p><p>
  <em> “I was a child. My first foster home was next to a witch, but I obviously didn’t know it at the time.” Castiel stares down at the ring of condensation his beer has left on the table. “I just needed to get out of the house for a little while - they were always screaming at each other. I climbed the fence, dropped into her backyard - crushed a flower.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Castiel pauses to take a long drink.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Ten years old. She didn’t even wait to see if I would just leave when asked. Apparently the flower was important and she was angry, and that was enough to curse a ten year old boy for the rest of his life.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Have you tried to find her?” Naomi asks, eyes already narrowing like she was coming up with the best line of attack. “As long as she doesn’t have a coven the two of us should be able to -” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “That’s why I became a PI,” Castiel says, a grim smile on his face. “I found her a few years ago. She was already dead.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Oh.” Naomi leans back in her chair. “Castiel, I’m...  so sorry. Maybe... maybe there’s still a cure out there somewhere.”  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Castiel only shrugs.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Well, thank you for telling me - I know that took a lot of courage.” Naomi pats him on the shoulder once and walks towards the bathroom door in the motel room they’d had to share. “We’ll figure something out.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Naomi pauses.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em> “Trust me,” she says. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> So, Castiel does.  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    
  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“She was very manipulative.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean looked up from the absolute mountain of eggs that he’d made for breakfast - despite being the one being in the bunker that didn’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> to eat, he still managed to consume the most food. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel rubbed at his eyes and sat across the table from him, going over exactly what he’d rehearsed earlier in his bedroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean needed an explanation about what had happened the night before, and Castiel could give him one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Most of one. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Naomi. From last night. She was very manipulative.” Castiel cleared his throat as Dean slowly set down his fork. “She was a good friend for a long time, but eventually... she showed her true colors. We parted ways on bad terms.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel tapped his fingers against the table as a distraction for himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She doesn’t apologize,” Castiel continued, though now it felt more like he was reassuring himself than talking to Dean, “especially for something she thinks she was in the right about, so… I don’t know why she was there last night. But it wasn’t the reason she said.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He finally looked up, and saw Dean was looking at him, his eyebrows scrunched together as he frowned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She hurt you,” Dean finally said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel let out a breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She did,” Castiel said, then paused briefly, a thought coming to him, “Do you know what that’s like?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To be hurt?” Dean asked, and his eyes flicked away, “I guess not.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel let himself wonder what a life could be like without being hurt - if you were impervious to damage, able to instantly heal yourself, nearly all-powerful and unable to be cursed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But even that hurt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I hope it stays that way.” Castiel rubbed at his eyes and changed the subject. “Would you like to go grocery shopping with me today?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean instantly perked up, looking only too happy to have an exit for the awkward conversation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we get ice cream?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Only if you carry all the bags.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Done.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The grocery runs the two of them went on usually consisted of Castiel attempting to buy food that - while maybe not the healthiest option - was at least sustainable, and Dean putting anything in the cart that had a colorful label. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean, those are gross,” Castiel said, putting the box back on the shelf with a huff. “Trust me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s got a unicorn on it!” Dean protested, trying to put it back in the cart again. “It has to be good!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s pure sugar and marketed towards children.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And towards me!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So I’m learning.” Castiel reached into the cart and pulled out a pink and white bag. “And what do we need powdered sugar for?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean only shrugged. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m putting it back,” Castiel wagged a finger at Dean, “watch the cart and don’t put anything else in until I get back.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel walked two aisles over, set the powdered sugar back where it belonged, and by the time he got back to the cart, Dean was gone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked down one end of the aisle, and then the other - no Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” he called. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Pushing his cart out towards the front, Castiel craned his neck, looking for any sign of the missing angel and shoving back all thoughts that told him the worst had happened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe Arthur had finally decided to take matters into his own hands and had kidnapped -</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean popped out from an aisle, smiling and waving at someone Castiel couldn’t see. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No problem!” Dean called as he turned, nodding at Castiel as he approached. “Don’t worry - I didn’t put anything else into the cart, your majesty.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’d you go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugged and put one hand on the cart. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There was a woman who needed help finding the salsa. I showed her real quick.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel inclined his head as he studied Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You helped her?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean was already looking at a package of cookies that was being displayed, “we passed it earlier.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel hummed, mostly to himself, and pushed their cart along. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You would have helped her, right?” Dean asked, and the tone in his voice made it sound like he was double-checking he’d done the right thing. “You weren’t there, so I figured I’d just do what you would have -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, I would have.” Castiel smiled softly at Dean, whose shoulders dropped in relief. “I’m sure she appreciated your help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean walked a little taller for the rest of the shopping trip, and Castiel even caved and let him buy the unicorn cereal. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a werewolf in Colorado, but according to Anna, the hunters there had it handled. Werewolves were usually one of Castiel’s favorites to hunt - not that he had ‘favorites’ in the traditional sense. He had ‘creatures who talked’ and ‘creatures who didn’t talk all that much’ and the latter list increased his chances of being able to kill the thing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, despite the assurance, he was half tempted to go and help out. It had been a while since he’d seen Balthazar and he hadn’t hunted anything since the failed demon attempt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel held his laptop in one arm as he walked into the library, clicking on a recent article about one of the killings, and almost missed Dean sitting at a table, staring intently at a many-faced, dark-metal object that was covered in deliberate squiggles of some sort. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel raised an eyebrow and began making his way towards Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As he did, the squiggles on each of the many faces began to emit a soft red glow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel stopped moving, and took a step back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The glow began to fade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean was looking at Castiel now, eyebrows furrowed together as Castiel took steps towards and away from the object on the table in perfect time with the strength of the light. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>After a few moments of silence, Castiel finally set the laptop down on the table, pulled up a chair, and vaguely gestured at the brightly glowing object that was now glowing impossibly red.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” Castiel said calmly. “What is that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean rested his chin on steepled fingers as his lips pursed together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, according to the runes on the side of it -” Dean looked at Castiel, then back at the object, “- it detects cursed objects.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel said nothing as he met Dean’s gaze and felt his secret slipping away from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you... know that you’re cursed?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t an order - he could lie. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could say he had no idea what was happening and that this object was clearly broken. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or he could tell Dean the truth and start putting trust in someone again - but that had ended so very badly the last time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Or he could compromise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel folded his arms in front of his chest and looked back at Dean evenly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean stared back, clearly waiting for some sort of explanation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... What is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“None of your concern.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>What?</span>
  </em>
  <span> Why?” Dean’s sputtered. “Are you </span>
  <em>
    <span>okay? </span>
  </em>
  <span>Are you going to - like - I don’t know - explode one day?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Castiel said, a calm juxtaposition to Dean’s bewilderment. “It’s something I’ve been dealing with for a very long time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Does it hurt you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That question threw him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d been expecting a barrage of questions, could it hurt </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean</span>
  </em>
  <span> for one thing - but concern for his well being? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t been expecting that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Castiel said, finally.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean stared back at him, his eyes narrowing minutely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t lie.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel inhaled as he felt the command take hold - another tick on the list that told Castiel he was right in keeping this from everyone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sometimes,” Castiel amended, his voice strained. “But I deal with it. It’s none of your concern.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What if I can heal you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel swallowed, just the sentence enough to give him pause. A world where he finally didn’t have to obey every order given to him? It was almost worth the risk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you heal me without me telling you what the curse is doing?” Castiel asked tentatively, already imagining a scenario where he would confide in Dean, and a devilish grin would grow across Dean’s face as he ordered him to do all kinds of nefarious deeds on behalf of Heaven.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean frowned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Probably not. Curses are complicated and messy. I’d need to know exactly -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then no.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Damn it, Cas!” Dean leaned forward, the glow of the object between them giving him an eerie glow. “I’m an </span>
  <em>
    <span>angel, </span>
  </em>
  <span>for god sake - I might be able to help you if you’d just tell me! We’re a </span>
  <em>
    <span>team.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not a team,” Castiel said in a low voice. “I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>a team. I’m helping you find your brother, and then we’re parting ways. Got it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean stared back, saying nothing, before finally pushing himself away from the table and walking towards the doorway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s the point of helping people if you won’t let people help </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shut the door behind him as he left, leaving Castiel staring alone into the dark red glow of the curse detector. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel was on his way to Colorado and the passenger seat next him was empty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He told himself it wasn’t malicious - he hadn’t left by himself in an attempt to punish Dean - he just wanted to be alone, while he also wanted to hunt the rumored werewolf. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was halfway through the five hour drive that Castiel realized he was gripping the steering wheel much tighter than he needed to be - and that he was still replaying Dean’s words in his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How </span>
  <em>
    <span>dare </span>
  </em>
  <span>he?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean - the mighty Angel of God - would </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> be able to understand what it was like to be Castiel. Dean barely understood that humans had feelings - who was </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span> to lecture </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> on helping people?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wouldn’t understand - </span>
  <em>
    <span>couldn’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>understand what this curse did to Castiel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel's two halves warred inside him. Like always, one half wanted to run away and live in the woods like a hermit, staying away from anyone who could tell him what to do, and the other half sharply reminded him how much he needed to be around people in order to stay sane. It was a stupid, awful choice he had to make every day of his life - did he want to suffer because of the lack of emotional connection today? Or because of the stress of the constant, unintentional orders that just existed in people’s vocabulary?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel was one joking ‘go play in traffic’ away from being dead at any given point, with the alternative being confiding in people about his curse and having five more Naomis to deal with, or being alone forever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel didn’t know how much longer he could live like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Staying in the bunker with Dean had felt like a happy medium for a little while, but obviously it was something that couldn’t last. Ultimately, Dean would either hurt him or leave him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe both. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel inhaled, trying to calm his racing thoughts. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean would never understand - and he’d have to accept that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God</span>
  <em>
    <span>dammit</span>
  </em>
  <span> -” Castiel gripped the silver knife in one hand as he panted against the concrete wall, his other hand hanging limply at his side where the werewolf had managed to drag its claws across. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This hunt stung - and not because his arm had been carved open like a turkey - because he’d been right. The werewolf hadn’t said one damn word to him and he was </span>
  <em>
    <span>still </span>
  </em>
  <span>going to fail.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once again, he was staring down the barrel of a hunt that was going to rid the world of Castiel, before the tally marks on the roof of his car got the chance to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel pressed himself up against the wall of the university library - a campus in Boulder where the creature had made its home - and tried to listen for anything that wasn’t his own heavy breathing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could have reached out to the other hunters in the area. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel peeked his head around the corner and saw an empty courtyard under the light of a full moon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could have asked one of them to join him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel ducked down and set the knife on the ground so he could put pressure on the wound in his arm, but it was probably much too late. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could have left with Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel heard the movement behind him before he saw it. In a flash of silver teeth and golden eyes, the sharp parts of the werewolf found the soft parts of Castiel as his knife was flung far, far away from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stared after it, claws tearing into him, as one word rang loudly in his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Dean.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The werewolf exploded in a burst of light and the familiar outline of wings that he’d seen once before was burned briefly into Castiel’s retinas, and a roar that rivaled a jet engine made his ears ring painfully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the absence of the bright light and thunderous noise, everything began to fade. His strength, his vision, his thoughts - this final hunt was finally taking everything else from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Someone was yelling something, a muted voice in the background of his finale, but he couldn’t concentrate enough to make anything out other than frantic mufflings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then, everything was back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It felt like when a light was switched on too suddenly after spending hours in the dark - but with his entire being. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell </span>
  </em>
  <span>were you thinking?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The world came back into sharp focus, and Dean was leaning over him and looked like he couldn’t decide what emotion to feel. Angry, definitely. Scared? Surely not. Something else, that Castiel couldn’t quite place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“ - wanted to kill a werewolf.” Castiel croaked, and tried to prop himself up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s hand was gripped tightly onto his denim-clad shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Alone?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You were </span>
  <em>
    <span>dying!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So it goes.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s mouth fell open as Castiel stared up at him, expressionless. After a moment, he let go of Castiel’s shoulder and stood up, all but dragging Castiel up with him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought I was starting to understand humans, but I guess not.” Dean took a step back, a cautious look in his eyes as he surveyed Castiel. “You know you only have one life to live, right? That’s it. No do-overs.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel said nothing and instead walked over to grab his knife from where it had clattered away from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought that rebellious tendencies were something that humans grew out of after the teenage years,” Dean said from somewhere behind him. “Hypocrisy, though - I guess that sticks around.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel whirled around. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hypocrisy?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just performed a miracle!” Dean threw up his hands. “You’re </span>
  <em>
    <span>welcome</span>
  </em>
  <span>, by the way. I stepped in and saved the life of a human. Weren’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>just</span>
  </em>
  <span> talking to me about how angels should do that more often?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Selfish reasons don’t count.” Castiel glared at Dean as he shoved his dagger back into its sheath. “You don’t get bonus points for saving a life that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>need.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>need</span>
  </em>
  <span> you.” Dean said, then shook his head as Castiel raised an eyebrow. “No - I - that came out wrong. I do. Need... you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel waited as Dean stood in front of him, eyes averted and looking uncomfortable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean was never uncomfortable - he confidently tripped over social cues with ease and always landed right-side-up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This was new. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look. I - I saved you because I like you, Cas. You’re frustrating and you’re grumpy, but I like you.” Dean shrugged his shoulders dramatically like he couldn’t believe it himself. “And I don’t want you to die. So, yeah. I guess it was selfish.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean paused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are there different kinds of selfish?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The question hung in the air, and Castiel could only shrug. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know. Probably.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nodded once and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket, and sucked in a breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Should I... be worried about... you?” he asked, his voice tentative. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel could only give half a smile as he turned and began to make his way back towards his car in the parking lot. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know that you could feel worried about a human,” Castiel said, mostly to dodge the question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The footsteps behind him echoed for a few moments before there was an answer. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Neither did I.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel slammed the car door shut behind him, barely reacting as Dean slid into place on the other side. He was angry at the werewolf, he was angry at Dean, but he was mostly angry at himself - and without thinking too deeply into it, Castiel whipped out his knife, carved another tally mark into the right hand column of the roof of his car, and started the engine.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was soft; he almost missed it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” he said, sharper than he meant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Dean murmured, and turned to stare out the window into the night.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the trip was silent.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>When Castiel walked into the kitchen the next morning there was an absolute mountain of burgers on the kitchen table. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not just burgers from one fast food place, but what looked to be a huge pile of unique burgers from dozens of different places all stacked together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” Castiel called out, absolutely mystified by the sight that greeted him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean instantly appeared next to the pile, nearly giving Castiel a heart attack. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh! You’re awake!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Well, I am now," Castiel said, and rubbed his eyes in disbelief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He frowned when he lowered his hand. The burger mountain was still there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You said you like burgers, right?” Dean said, rocking back and forward on his feet as he spoke. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did say that once, yes,” Castiel responded after pausing for a moment to see if Dean was kidding. “But, you know I can’t eat all of these, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, of course!” Dean gestured towards the pile with one hand. “I just didn’t know which kind of burger is your favorite so I just grabbed a bunch for you to choose from. So, you know…" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He trailed off and continued gesturing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean…" Castiel pulled a chair out from the table, faced it towards Dean, and slumped down, “... you don’t have to do this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do what?” Dean grabbed one of the wrapped burgers at random and tossed it into Castiel’s lap. “Here. I heard this one’s good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean -” Castiel picked up off his lap and unwrapped it. He had to admit it looked good. “- Dean, thank you. This is a very nice gesture, but... if this is supposed to be a - I don’t know. I’m sorry about last night. I just had a bad day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no - this is just, you know, a gift! Friends give each other gifts, right?” Dean said. “It’s a gift!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel looked from the pile of food to Dean’s hopeful face, and something warm curled around his heart - a heat that comforted, but a heat that could burn if it grew too hot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Letting himself get close to someone again; it was dangerous. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he craved it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re going to have to help me eat these,” Castiel said finally. “But they do look very good.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean practically beamed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No problem there! Even as I was taking them I had to use some self-restraint. I want at least fourteen of them but that still leaves a lot for you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel let himself smile as he took a bite out of his burger for breakfast. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“By the way,” Dean said, already done unwrapping a burger of his own, “I might have a lead on something with Sam. Well, not really a </span>
  <em>
    <span>lead,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but I remembered some Earth places that he liked to visit - maybe he’s found his way there?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel shrugged and nodded as he chewed. They’d already combed through Dallas with no sign of Sam - and Dean was bound to know his brother better than Castiel did. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That sounds like something.” Castiel wiped at his mouth. “Where did you have in mind?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you ever been to Santorini?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel frowned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that a restaurant?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s smile widened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As it turned out, Santorini was not the three-star italian restaurant that Castiel had been picturing, but in fact an island in Greece. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A gorgeous island with white and blue buildings that overlooked the bright cerulean Aegean Sea. Castiel had definitely seen the ocean before, but he’d never had a view like this, and it had never looked quite this beautiful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, Sam used to come here a lot?” Castiel asked as Dean led them down one of the narrow winding pathways that seemed to twist and turn all over the island. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Definitely heard him talk about it before,” Dean said, nodding at someone as they crossed paths “back when he was still trying to convince me to visit with him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel stepped alongside Dean as they continued walking, matching his pace. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why didn’t you ever want to visit?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugged, looking almost bashful about it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know. You weren’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>supposed to visit a lot without permission - not that I give a shit about that, obviously - it was just a lot of paperwork if you got caught and I hate paperwork.” Dean let out a long sigh. “Heaven has everything. I didn’t think there was anything down here I needed.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean glanced over at him after saying this, and quickly looked away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you miss it?” Castiel asked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Heaven?” Dean stopped them as they got to a lookout point and leaned forward on the stone wall. “I don’t know.  This is the longest I’ve been gone from it… and I don’t hate it. Earth is a lot different than I expected - everything is so raw and random compared to Heaven. In Heaven everyone pretends that they know everything and everyone else goes along with it so that everything is in perfect order. Humans don’t seem to care as much, you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel said nothing, content to listen to Dean’s voice as he rambled introspectively. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I mean you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> care! Humans care and feel a lot! But not in the same way. I don’t know.” Dean ran a hand through his hair and turned with a satisfied look on his face. “It’s different here. I like it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel let himself smile as he turned out towards the ocean, the sun hot against his back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, if Sam was coming to places like this, of course he wanted to stay here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looked over when Dean shifted slightly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I  - well. I always kind of suspected that he met someone down here somewhere. And that was why he kept coming back.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel raised his eyebrows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? Dean, that’s brand new information - that could be where he is!” Castiel leaned forward excitedly. “Did he say anything about them? Where they lived?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? No.” Dean shook his head, clearly a little taken aback that Castiel had grabbed onto that piece of information so tightly. “No, he didn’t ever say he was visiting someone, he just sometimes got that look in his two hundredth eye. It wasn’t something I’d seen before.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel paused mid-breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... Two hundredth... ?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s face split into a wide grin as he winked and Castiel’s dumbfounded face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, Cas. Sometimes I really wish my trueform wouldn’t burn your eyes out of your skull.” He patted Castiel on the arm once. “C’mon. Let’s go exploring.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel winced as his feet followed after Dean faster than he would have liked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They didn’t find Sam on Santorini, though it hadn’t felt like they’d looked all that much. Castiel had kept his eyes peeled the entire time for a tall man with shaggy dark hair, though, as it turned out, that described most of the men in Greece. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was difficult to keep an eye out when every ten seconds Dean was pointing out something else as they walked: a gelato stand, a pretty restaurant, the sunset. Everything was amazing, but counterproductive in their search for Sam. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, I’ve got plenty of places on the list,” Dean said cheerfully. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were sitting on the beach at Dean’s behest, eating gelato and watching the amber sunset as it dipped beneath the sea. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sorry we didn’t find him here,” Castiel said, his eyes tracking a couple as they passed in front of them laughing and holding hands, “But, if I’m being honest, if he can’t fly anymore I don’t see why he would have come here. This is a tourist spot. He’s probably thinking about basic needs right now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shoved the last bit of his gelato into his mouth and licked his fingers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I knew it was a long shot,” he said with a half-shoulder shrug, “but it’s all we’ve got right now, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right, but -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, tomorrow we should check out China.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>China?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well, not </span>
  <em>
    <span>all</span>
  </em>
  <span> of China - just this one part Sam mentioned a few times in passing.” Dean pushed himself up off the sand and wiped at the back of his pants. “Unless you’ve got a better lead?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel stared at the gelato he was holding, one side of it started dripping onto his fingers. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He let out a sigh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No. I guess I don’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean gave him a knowing look and held out a hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ready to go home?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel stared at Dean’s offered hand for a few moments - then placed his hand on top of Dean’s and allowed himself to be helped up. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lead the way, angel,” he said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s hand tightened when he smiled, and Santorini vanished around them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hours later, Castiel stared up at the ceiling in the dark of his room, unable to sleep. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could still feel Dean’s hand clasped around his own. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Welcome to the Rainbow Mountains!” Dean said, before Castiel was able to really understand where they were. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel rubbed at his eyes as he stared up at what appeared to be a very large and very multicolored mountain range spread widely before him. There were stripes of almost every color he could think of streaking their way up and over a mountain - it felt like he was either in a Dr. Seuss book or on a bad acid trip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is a real place?” Castiel breathed out, only half convinced Dean hadn’t taken him to Mars or a moon of Jupiter, or another dimension entirely. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As real as I am,” Dean said with a wink, then placed his hands on his hips as he stared out over the rolling colors. “I can see why Sam likes this place. It’s pretty magical.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No kidding. How’d something like this happen?” Castiel asked, reaching down to touch some of the more blue-ish pigment in the dirt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Charlie,” Dean said with a smirk that hinted at an inside-joke he must have had with only himself. “Another angel. She was allowed to make one thing down here and she sure went all out, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s very impressive,” Castiel said, and </span>
  <span>wiped the colored dirt on his pants as he stood, a thought striking him.</span>
  <span> “Did - did you get to create anything?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean folded his arms in front of his chest and nodded once. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Would I know it?” Castiel asked, but couldn’t imagine Dean was able to do anything under-the-radar. If another angel was allowed to make rainbow mountains, Dean was probably responsible for all known volcanoes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you know what ‘Dean’ means?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel shook his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It means - well, it means a few different things depending on the translation. But I like one where it means ‘valley’.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You made a </span>
  <em>
    <span>valley,</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Castiel filled in, immediately going through all of the grandiose valley’s he knew about. Did the Grand Canyon count as a valley?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shoved his hands into the pocket of his jacket and started walking down the side of the mountain as Castiel followed close behind. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yep. I was pretty proud of it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which valley?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugged his shoulders. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t remember what it’s called now, but it was on your continent, somewhere in the west.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel frowned, trying not to trip and fall down the mountainside as he walked alongside Dean, keeping an eye out for any signs of Sam. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A valley in the west?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... Yosemite?” Castiel asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean snapped his fingers and pointed at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>That’s </span>
  </em>
  <span>the one. Trying to get those glaciers to carve what I wanted was fucking </span>
  <em>
    <span>rough -</span>
  </em>
  <span> I probably should have just stuck with a giant desert or something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel slowly nodded, only half listening to what Dean was saying past the fact that he, personally, had created Yosemite Valley. As in the being that Castiel was currently talking to, walking with, and shared a living space with. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You okay?” Dean stopped in his walking to look back over at him in concern. “Sorry, did that freak you out? You’ve got that same look you had when you found out I could fly.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine,” Castiel said in a small voice, but attempted a smile. “It’s just... you made sheep defecate on the kitchen table but you also created Yosemite Valley.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Hey,</span>
  </em>
  <span> that was an accident. Yosemite was on purpose.” Dean paused. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>Mostly</span>
  </em>
  <span> on purpose.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel shook his head and huffed out a laugh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Should I not talk about angel stuff?” Dean said with a tilt to his head. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Life is uncomfortable,” Castiel said with a shrug. “I like hearing about you - I just... sometimes forget that you’re so very not human.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just that good at blending in, huh?” Dean nudged Castiel playfully as they started walking again. “Hello, fellow human! Would you like to discuss how little sleep we got last night? Or maybe we can ritually douse our bodies in water after we have excreted too much of our own out of our pores?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s gross.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know. It’s amazing I still hang around you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel let himself smile at Dean for far too much time, and he stumbled as his foot hit a rock that he’d been too distracted to notice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Gravity didn’t take hold for long - Dean grabbed Castiel by the hand, gently helped him regain his balance, and squeezed once. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Probably just for comfort. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m starting to feel a damsel in distress,” Castiel said with a hint of irony to it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shrugged one shoulder, but Castiel could see through the innocent look he was trying to portray. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe it’s the universe trying to tell you something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What, that I’m a damsel?” Castiel said skeptically. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel felt Dean let go of his hand and watched as he shoved it into his jacket pocket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nah, just that - like -” Dean shook his head. “Never mind.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel was tempted to press him on that - but Dean’s body language didn’t make a further conversation on what he was going to say seem very welcoming. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, Castiel turned to more pressing matters. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you really think Sam could be here somewhere?” he asked, staring out over the rolling hills of color. Everything was beautiful, but also empty. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were the only two beings around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why not?” Dean said, far more chipper than was necessary. “He could be, but if he’s not, there are worse places to spend the day - oooo, that’s a cool rock!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shot forward ahead of them, and Castiel let out a sigh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of following, Castiel pulled out his phone, and forwarded a picture of Sam’s current vessel to a couple of his hunter friends, requesting that they let him know if anyone like him came up on their radar. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean might think what they were doing was useful, but Castiel did not, and he didn’t want their travelling to be the reason they didn’t find him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cas - this rock is </span>
  <em>
    <span>crazy -</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel pocketed his phone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, I’m coming.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The more places Dean took Castiel to, the more Castiel realized two very different things. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first was that he really enjoyed spending time with Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean was very charming when he wanted to be, funny, though he thought he was funnier than he actually was, surprisingly introspective at times, and most of all, Dean seemed to really be trying to understand how humans worked. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He jumped at the chance to offer his arm to old women they saw crossing the streets in Italy, gave some helpful directions to a man looking for the bathroom, and even stopped their lunch to catch up to someone who’d dropped their wallet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not much of that felt like the angel he’d once heard talk about how barely noticeable the lives of humans were to angels, and how helping them didn’t matter. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something in him had noticeably shifted. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Castiel was also well aware that no matter how much Dean insisted these trips were to search for Sam, they very clearly were not. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which brought him to the second thing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They were sitting on a large flat rock at the edge of a beautiful lake that Dean swore up and down was full of jellyfish, though Castiel didn’t really have a desire to jump in and test the truth of it. The sun had set an hour ago, and the night sky glittered with starlight, undisturbed by human light pollution. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean hummed in response, fully laid down flat with his hands behind his head as he stared up at the heavens. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are we here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, because Sam said once that he -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, he didn’t,” Castiel said, but there wasn’t any malice to it. Just a statement of fact. “You and I both know that Sam isn’t going to be in any of these places.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He could be,” Dean said softly after a few moments of pause. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Aren’t you worried about him?” Castiel said. “Why are you wasting our time with these trips?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean sat up and rested his arms against his knees. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>am</span>
  </em>
  <span> worried about him.” Dean glanced away, grabbing a small rock and tossing it into the lake with a small </span>
  <em>
    <span>plop. </span>
  </em>
  <span>“But I’m worried about </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me?” Castiel frowned. “Why are you worried about me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean picked up another rock, letting the silence draw out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know what the marks on your car are for.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He threw the rock. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another splash.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel tucked his knees close to his chest and rested his head on his arms. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you don’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No?” Dean said, and for the first time since the werewolf attack, he sounded angry. “Okay. Stop me if I’m wrong.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean threw another rock, harder this time. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re obsessed with the idea of how useful you are. You want to help people </span>
  <em>
    <span>so </span>
  </em>
  <span>much that you can’t stand getting something wrong. The marks on the left side are when you get a hunt right. The marks on the right are when you mess it up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean picked up a fourth rock, gripped it, and then set it down again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happens when the right side is more than the left, Cas?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel swallowed dryly, and looked out at the moon’s reflection on the surface of the lake. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then I’m not helping the world as much as I’m harming it.” He let out a breath. “And there’s no point in me being in it if I’m not helping.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s bullshit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel set his jaw. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>complicated.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>bullshit.”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Dean spun himself around so he was facing Castiel, even if Castiel was purposefully avoiding eye-contact. “What the hell kind of fucked up way of thinking is that, huh? Why do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> have to be perfect to be worth it? You know there’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>actual </span>
  </em>
  <span>shitty people out there living their life and not caring that they hurt people - and here you are actually </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying </span>
  </em>
  <span>to do good and you want to -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean cut himself off and shook his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought that the time difference of when a human dies was barely noticeable in the grand scheme of things,” Castiel said, still avoiding Dean’s gaze. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel could hear a small intake of breath from Dean hearing his own words used against him.</span>
</p>
<p><span>“I thought that</span> <span>life mattered,” Dean pressed. “That </span><em><span>your </span></em><span>life matters to you.”</span></p>
<p>
  <span>“It doesn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It matters to your family.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t have one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It matters to </span>
  <em>
    <span>me.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel finally let himself lock eyes with Dean; his eyes were wide and full of intense desperation. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe it’s the wrong kind of selfish, but I </span>
  <em>
    <span>like </span>
  </em>
  <span>you, and I like spending time with you. I don’t want that to stop just because you make mistakes sometimes - just like every other being.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean - it’s - it’s more complicated than that -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why?” Dean sat back. “Your curse? Is it making you do this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ironically, this was one of the few things Castiel still had the freedom to choose for himself. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I just - I became a hunter to help and if I’m not helping - “</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Then the world stays the same. It doesn’t get </span>
  <em>
    <span>worse.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Dean let out a breath. “You don’t need all of this on your shoulders. I think you care too much about what everyone else wants.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> to care about what everyone else wants,” Castiel shot back.“If I don’t know what everyone wants all the time, then - then it ends </span>
  <em>
    <span>badly </span>
  </em>
  <span>for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> want?” Dean said. “What about </span>
  <em>
    <span>you?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel swallowed as the question shot into his heart, and all he could see was Dean, trying so hard to make him happy that he took him all over the world. The places didn’t matter, none of that mattered, but Dean was </span>
  <em>
    <span>trying</span>
  </em>
  <span> in the only way he knew how - and in his fumbling, he showed how much he cared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one had </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> shown to him that they cared as much as Dean did.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t realized just how much that could mean to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel’s eyes flicked to Dean’s lips almost involuntarily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wouldn’t fix him, but it wouldn’t hurt. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Dean had said not hurting was fine.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh -” Dean breathed out and, for a moment, Castiel was sure he’d done something wrong, that Dean was going to wince and say that he cared, but not that way. Castiel braced himself, but instead, Dean leaned forward slowly, cautiously. He could feel Dean’s hitched breath on his cheek as Dean became almost unbearably close - “Cas... you can </span>
  <em>
    <span>have </span>
  </em>
  <span>that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel sucked in a sharp breath; a physical confirmation of something Castiel hadn’t even been able to fully form in his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanted Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A - are - do </span>
  <em>
    <span>you </span>
  </em>
  <span>-” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Dean breathed, putting a gentle hand on the back of Castiel’s neck; their noses brushed. “Do you -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel surged forward, closing the distance between them when he finally decided in that moment what it was he wanted. No thinking too deeply, no worrying about how much this could hurt him later - this was it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just him and Dean under the watchful eye of the moon, holding onto each other like they would disappear as soon as they let go. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel carded his fingers through Dean’s hair as he pressed himself closer - chasing the taste of ozone and lightning on Dean’s lips, a reminder that Dean was so much more than he seemed. He was powerful, inspiring, and dangerous - and being an angel was only part of the reason why. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He almost broke away when he heard a little distressed sound, only to realize that it was coming from somewhere in the back of his own throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was Dean who pulled away first, and it took him a try or two before he could keep Castiel at bay long enough to speak. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is this okay?” he asked. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Yes,” </span>
  </em>
  <span>Castiel murmured, “yes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>yes.”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Any remaining tension seemed to seep away from Dean as he allowed himself to be pulled into another kiss. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want -” Castiel breathed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmm.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we go home?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean smiled, nodded, and as he pressed another kiss to Castiel’s lips, the world around them vanished, though Castiel was convinced that the world would always vanish when he kissed Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time in his life, Castiel went to sleep wrapped in strong arms while someone whispered in his ear, </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re important, too.” </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>A long kiss pressed into the side of his neck was what finally awoke Castiel the next morning. He’d been teetering on the edge of consciousness for a good amount of time and the press of lips against skin gently pulled him back down to earth and into a warm bed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning,” a voice said, rumbling next to his ear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Mmmm,” Castiel managed, keeping his eyes closed in case this was a dream, and he turned to press his face into a pillow, but met warm skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Or not,” Dean said with a chuckle, and Castiel felt his chest rise and fall under him, “that’s okay, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Slowly, Castiel opened his eyes, blinking the sleep out of them, and took a deep inhale before releasing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tilted his head, and Dean was smiling at him like Castiel was the best thing he’d seen in days. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi,” Dean said. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi,” Castiel responded, letting a smile tug on a corner of his mouth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look much less threatening in the morning,” Dean said. “Though that could just be the lack of clothes and weapons -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel raised an eyebrow and pulled out a smaller dagger from under his pillow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean stared in silence for a beat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>God</span>
  </em>
  <span>, you’re hot.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel’s smirk slowly vanished as he stared back at Dean, as </span>
  <span>memories of everything that had led to them ending up in a tangle came rushing back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Dean said, propping himself up on an elbow and frowning in concern. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not -” Castiel swallowed, a pit beginning to form in his stomach. “Did - did this happen because you feel sorry for me? For what I said?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Dean’s face screwed up into bafflement. “No, Cas, I -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“- or some other attempt to convince me that life is worth it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Jesus, no.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Dean ran a hand down his face and let out a breath. “Cas - this is - I don’t - how can I -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean sat up completely and Castiel followed suit, though he found a very interesting loose thread on the blanket to stare at. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve existed for almost five billion years,” Dean said, his jaw set. “I saw the universe explode and I saw the stupidest little fish climb out of the water on a dumb little planet and when someone told me there were big plans for that fish I laughed in their face. And then I ignored almost everything that came after, and only appeared when I was forced to and then I’d leave again after a job well done, happy to be off that dumb rock.” Dean leaned forward, eyes pleading as Castiel finally looked up, his heart beating fast. “I thought all of that for five billion years and you changed everything in less than one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel could do nothing but stare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve never felt this way before, Castiel.” Dean reached a hand forward and rested a hand on Castiel’s. “But if Sam’s down here because he gave it all away for someone he felt this way for… I can’t say I blame him. I’d do it, too.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel opened his mouth and closed it several times, trying to find the right words to say, but they were just out of reach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t - you don’t have to say anything,” Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I know that was a lot and you’re not the most comfortable with emotions and stuff - and that’s okay - but I just wanted you to know. I’m not taking pity on you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The pit in Castiel’s stomach began to subside, but it didn’t leave. It became something new - something else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>More like butterflies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel jumped at the sound of his phone vibrating on the dresser next to the bed, shattering whatever had been hanging in the air between them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The caller ID was flashing “Anna Milton”. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel turned his hand so that he was touching Dean’s palm-to-palm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I should get that,” he said, and squeezed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean smiled and squeezed back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You should.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel leaned over and grabbed his phone upon command, an action he was going to do anyway, but it still stung every time Dean said something that triggered his curse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, Castiel!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi, Anna,” Castiel greeted, trying to keep his voice neutral like he hadn’t just had one of the most emotional rollercoasters of his life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, so you know that picture you sent me a few days ago?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel’s eyes flashed to Dean’s. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, so I showed it to some of the other bartenders and Rachel swears she saw him a few months ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel’s eyes widened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The tinny voice of Anna got a little higher in pitch.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes! I mean, according to her. She seemed very sure. Apparently she tried to give him her number, but he never used it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll be there soon. Thank you, Anna.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We?” she asked.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel hung up, stared at the black screen of the phone, then up at Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We have a lead.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t take much convincing this time to lure Dean towards driving instead of flying. The bar wasn’t all that far of a drive, and Dean was in a good mood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe he’s still nearby!” Dean said for the fourth time as he tapped on the window of the car excitedly. “I mean you never know! What a coincidence that he was seen there, right?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, definitely odd,” Castiel said, trying to ignore a prodding in the back of his mind that this was too good to be true. Maybe the other bartender was mistaken. It was a while back, after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean was restless and fidgety, clearly trying to find an outlet for all of his nervous energy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe they should have flown after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But hey, I’ll take it!” Dean said, and reached forward, opening the glove box almost absently. “Not gonna look a gift horse in the mouth.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel only hummed in response - at this point he was very adept at looking into the mouths of gift horses. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whoa, is this you?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel glanced over and saw that Dean was holding a small collection of photographs that he kept hidden away in the glove box. On top was a younger Castiel in a dark suit and trench coat, tie backwards as he smiled and raised a glass into the air next to someone that he used to know - a Castiel from a different life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Castiel said, and turned his eyes back to the road. “Years ago.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I dig the trench coat,” Dean said, his voice sounding just on the edge of flirtatious. “Do you still have it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel shrugged. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s in a storage shed somewhere.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I definitely think you should break that style back out.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel cracked a small smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’ll see.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel said nothing when Dean tucked the photo away into an internal jacket pocket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean let out a long breath and leaned back in his seat, staring up at nothing, and the fidgeting stopped all at once. There was almost an immediate shift in the atmosphere in the car, and when Castiel looked over he saw Dean frowning intently at the marks Castiel had carved on the roof. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And now he knew what they meant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean -” Castiel started, but what more could he say? What else was there to explain?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead of responding, Dean’s frown grew into something more resolved, and in a flash there was a long silver object that Castiel hadn’t seen before in his hand. It looked as if there were four edges to it like some sort of weapon, but not one Castiel could make sense of. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Bringing it upward, Dean flicked his wrist and smoothly carved a mark into the left column next to the other tallies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “You gave money to that woman at the grocery store,” Dean said, giving Castiel a look that dared him to disagree. “A point for you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey, I didn’t make the rules.” Dean reached up again and carved a second mark next to the first. “You paid for that man’s breakfast at a diner.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another mark. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You let me eat part of your donut when I wanted to try maple bacon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel huffed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now you’re just being -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was nice. It counts.” Dean smiled smugly at him. “You gave up a lot of your time to help me find my brother.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean did two marks for that one, but Castiel didn’t argue about it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You try and help people even when you can’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Another mark.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You keep trying, even when you fail.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Mark. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You changed me for the better,” Dean murmured, something very close to reverence in his voice, then dragged his weapon in the ‘good’ column again. “I can keep going, you know.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel swallowed and forced his eyes back onto the road. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Point taken,” he said, voice soft. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good.” Dean twirled the weapon in his hand and it vanished. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A silence settled between them again, but not necessarily an uncomfortable one. It was a silence of change - a silence where things could settle back into place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What was that thing?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean twirled his fingers again and the blade appeared. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This old thing? An angel blade. We all get one to fight with.” Dean shrugged like it was no big deal. “It can kill a lot of things normal weapons can’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Huh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean leaned in towards him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But those marks it just carved? Best thing it’s ever done.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel huffed and tried not to give in to the complicated whirlwind roiling inside of him as he drove.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>-</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The Roadhouse always had at least one or two people drinking no matter what the time of day was when Castiel arrived. Today was no different, and in fact seemed a bit busier than usual. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Castiel!” Anna waved from behind the bar and gestured them forward. “How was the drive?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not bad,” he said, and took a seat in a bar stool. “How are you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Never better.” She turned to Dean and stuck out a hand. “Hi. I’m Anna Milton.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean Winchester,” Dean said with a smile and shook her offered hand, “I like your place.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean...” Anna trailed off and raised an eyebrow at Castiel - “... Winchester, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The one and only.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel had momentarily forgotten that he’d mentioned the name to her before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes, ah, I found him,” Castiel said awkwardly, and hurried forward, “he’s the brother of the man your co-worker said she saw.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Right,” Anna said, still giving him a look. “Well, Rachel’s in the back, I’ll go grab her.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel gave an awkward half-wave as Anna turned and pushed open the door to the back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Soooo -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel turned to see Dean leaning on the bar with his chin resting on a fist, blinking up at him with a shit-eating grin on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“- you told her about me, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel felt the blood rush to his face, coloring his cheeks a light pink as he cleared his throat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was for something completely unrelated. I just wanted to know if she’d ever heard of you after the first time we met.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That alluring, huh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean winked at him like it meant something, to which Castiel just rolled his eyes, though it didn’t stop a smile from creeping over his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been </span>
  <em>
    <span>flirted</span>
  </em>
  <span> with like this - like a teenager. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, this is Rachel.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Anna had reappeared with a nervous looking blonde woman at her side, who gave them an attempt at a wave before looking away shyly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s okay, Rachel. They don’t bite,” Anna said with a comforting smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Unless it’s consensual,” Dean said with a wink. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel cleared his throat loudly and nodded in Rachel’s general direction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, you think you saw Sam here?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah, pretty sure.” She shrugged a shoulder and looked back at Anna, who gave an encouraging nod. “He’s got an easy face to remember.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did he ever say his name?” Castiel prodded, hoping they’d get a confirmation instead of a hope. “Or what he was doing here?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, sorry, didn’t catch any of that,” Rachel said with regretful tilt of her head, “He didn’t talk much. Just ate a lot.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you remember if he paid with a card?” Castiel asked. “Maybe we could search the records and find the name?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I remember he didn’t pay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean frowned. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So, he stole food? Doesn’t sound much like him.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rachel shook her head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, no, he didn’t pay, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>she </span>
  </em>
  <span>did.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time Anna turned towards Rachel, looking confused. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She? You didn’t say he was with anyone.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know it was important.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you recognize her?” Castiel asked, though he figured it was a long shot. If this was the mystery human that Dean assumed Sam had been pining for, what were the chances Rachel would know her as well? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course,” Rachel said. “Naomi used to drop by all the time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A cold chill started to creep up Castiel’s spine and settled in his lungs, making it hard to breathe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Naomi. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam has been in the Roadhouse with </span>
  <em>
    <span>Naomi?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Naomi?” Dean said in a low, dangerous voice. “What do you mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Rachel looked at the three of them, clearly confused by their less-than-ideal reactions to her name. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just - just that he was with her? They were talking about something and she paid for their food and then they left.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel stared into an empty corner booth, imagining the two of them sitting there, sharing a meal, chatting. How could the two of them possibly ended up in the same location, seemingly on purpose? What commonality did they share? What could Naomi possibly -</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel froze, thinking back to night she confronted him at the motel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What was it she’d said? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“She - she found a way to help people,” Castiel murmured, still staring at the corner. “That’s what she told me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“With Sam?” Dean said in an incredulous voice. “What could he do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything,” Castiel said softly, then glanced back over to Anna and Rachel. “Thank you, both. Could you excuse us for a moment?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both nodded, albeit in confusion, and Castiel grabbed Dean by the hand to lead him back outside where they could talk in private. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This is bad,” he said, pacing back and forth in a small line in front of Dean. “I don’t know how but it is.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean ‘everything’?” Dean said, “He can’t do everything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To humans he can! </span>
  <em>
    <span>You </span>
  </em>
  <span>can!” Castiel ran an agitated hand through his hair. “Angels can fly, decimate cities, get you out of tough situations, heal you on the brink of death -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam wouldn’t just decimate a city for some random lady,” Dean said with a frown in his voice. “He’s not like that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which is why it’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad.</span>
  </em>
  <span>” Castiel stopped his pacing. “Naomi will always exploit what she wants to as long as it’s in the name of the greater good. If Sam refused, she would have found a way to </span>
  <em>
    <span>make </span>
  </em>
  <span>him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I don't know, Cas. No one's ever really been able to get my brother to do anything he didn't want to."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You don't know her."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel finally met Dean’s eyes and saw him looking back with his eyebrows knit together just before he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Castiel, pulling him close to his chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It wasn’t what Castiel had expected, but it was a nice relief from panic circles his body wanted to pace through again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Cas,” Dean said, resting his chin on Castiel’s shoulder, “for whatever she made you do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel swallowed, and could feel pinpricks in the corner of his eyes - tears wanting to escape. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one had ever said that to him before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This - this isn’t about me,” he managed, but let the hug linger for a little longer. “Sam’s probably in trouble.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Dean finally let go and stepped back, “Cas, I can do this one on my own. This is a good headstart and I don’t want you to have to deal with Naomi.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel shook his head emphatically. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, I can help. I know how she thinks and what she wants.” Castiel swallowed. “You’ll need me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright,” Dean said, but he looked over him warily. “Are you sure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel set his jaw and nodded once. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll go grab you some water,” Dean said with a small frown. “You look pretty pale.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel </span>
  <em>
    <span>felt</span>
  </em>
  <span> pale, and he could feel an oncoming sense of dread on the horizon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he had Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Having Dean next to him if they needed to confront Naomi was a hell of a lot better than doing it alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watched Dean hurry back into the Roadhouse with a quick glance over his shoulder, and Castiel leaned against his car with a heavy sigh. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>From his pocket, his phone rang. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel fished it out and frowned at the caller ID. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Balthazar only really called him when he was cleaning up one of Castiel’s failed hunts to get some more details or tease him about it. Maybe for the first time in his life, Balthazar was the one in trouble?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel answered the call. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t hang up the call until I tell you to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel’s grip tightened on the phone in his hand, instantly recognizing the voice on the other end of the line. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’s Balthazar?” he said through gritted teeth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, he’s fine,” Naomi said, almost impatiently. “Just misplaced his phone. Now, listen to me very closely, Castiel. And don’t call out for help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Naomi piled on order after order, Castiel squeezed his eyes shut, the oncoming dread threatening to drown him. But his ears remained open.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They had to.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m very sorry about this, Castiel,” Naomi said after her orders were complete, “I really am. I tried to do this another way but you wouldn’t listen. I’m only doing it like this because I have to.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The irony was probably lost on her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please don’t do this, Naomi,” Castiel said. “Please. Whatever you’re planning, just stop.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Naomi’s voice only steeled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They can help so many people, Castiel. I know you know this. You’ve been around an angel long enough to realize what they can do. What they </span>
  <em>
    <span>won’t</span>
  </em>
  <span> do.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They just don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>understand,”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Castiel pleaded. “They don’t always realize that things can matter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t have time for them to learn,” Naomi shot back. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>We</span>
  </em>
  <span> don’t have time. The world needs help </span>
  <em>
    <span>now</span>
  </em>
  <span> and if they won’t use their powers to help then I will use it for them. Now. Do exactly as I say and don’t look for loopholes. Tell me if you understand.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel felt all of the fight drain out of him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I understand.”</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel rips the duct tape from the woman’s mouth as Naomi looms just behind him, silver knife at the ready in both of their hands. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Where’s the other one?” Naomi barks at her before he had even taken the tape all the way off. “Where’s your hideout?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel frowns as the brunette in front of them looks at the two of them with terror in her eyes as she curls back against the pole she’s tied to. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“What </span>
  </em>
  <span>other </span>
  <em>
    <span>one?” the woman asks, breathy in a way that clues Castiel into her panic. “Please, let me go!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel feels himself go for her bonds. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Castiel, don’t.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He breaths out as he stops, and nods at Naomi. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The only order she’s allowed to give him is whatever it takes to get him to go back to the status quo. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Still, this entire situation doesn’t feel right. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Naomi, I don’t think she’s one of them,” Castiel says, and turns back to see her frowning at him. “Are you sure about this?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Of course she’s one of them,” Naomi says with a scoff. “She’s the only person I saw in their confirmed hunting grounds. We just need to find her partner.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“The Vetalas I caught a glimpse of were blondes,” Castiel murmurs, and looks at the shaking brunette woman again. “She seems very human.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I </span>
  </em>
  <span>am</span>
  <em>
    <span> human! What are you </span>
  </em>
  <span>talking </span>
  <em>
    <span>about?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>know</span>
  <em>
    <span> they were the Vetalas,” Naomi points out, ignoring the woman’s pleading, and she’s right. He wasn’t sure, but he had a hunch that the two blonde women he saw luring away a trucker that they later found dead was a good sign. “Besides, there could be three.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“They only hunt in pairs,” Castiel says with a roll of his eyes. “I think you got it wrong, Naomi. She’s not a Vetala.” </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I don’t </span>
  </em>
  <span>get</span>
  <em>
    <span> things wrong, Castiel,” Naomi says in a low voice that he always hears when she’s unnecessarily angry. She’ll calm down. She always does. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Everyone gets things wrong sometimes,” Castiel retorts and turns back towards the woman that Naomi tied up for him to help interrogate. “I’m very sorry about all of this ma’am. I know it doesn’t seem like it right now but we’re just trying to help people.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The woman looks at him with wide eyes as he walks behind her and cuts the rope binding her hands behind her back. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>A loud snarl fills the air moments later, though not from the woman as Castiel was helping to her feet. From the doorframe behind Naomi, a blonde woman stands, fangs protruding from where her teeth should be. One moment she’s a looming figure in the background, and the next she’s inches from Naomi and biting into her neck with speed only a Vetala can possess. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Before Castiel can react, Naomi yells, wriggles out of the Vetala’s grasp, and stabs her in the heart with a twist of her silver knife. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Both Naomi and the Vetala drop to their knees - the Vetala falls as she begins to crumble and die - and Naomi falls as the paralytic poison begins to take hold. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The form of the second Vetala, the partner to the first, fills the doorway behind Naomi just as Naomi points to the woman Castiel is helping prop up. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Kill her,” she says, then passes out completely.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There’s a helpless, gut wrenching moment before Naomi loses consciousness that Castiel hopes she'll take back what she said, that she’ll realize what she’s done - but she didn’t see the second Vetala. She thought she was right, and was willing to stake a life on it at Castiel’s expense.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s him, but it’s not him. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s his hand, but it’s not his hand. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s his knife that plunges into the woman’s chest, but it’s not his knife. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>She looks at him like it is, though. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The fear, the betrayal, the pain - and then nothing. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>The woman drops to the ground with the others, and Castiel is left with the second Vetala. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There are three bodies at Castiel’s feet when the Vetala venom in Naomi’s bloodstream finally fades. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Two are withered and decayed, and the other is tragically unremarkable. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“You promised,” Castiel says flatly, watching Naomi realize he’s tied her up to the same pole. “You said you’d never make me do something I didn’t want to do.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Naomi blinks, quickly surveys the bodies on the ground next to her and looks back up. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Castiel, I -”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“I trusted you,” Castiel says, and puts fingers in both of his ears, “and now I never will. I don’t want to see you, or hear from you, ever again.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Naomi’s lips move furiously as she tugs at her bonds. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Goodbye, Naomi.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Castiel leaves Naomi alone with the bodies. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>-</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You must pretend that this conversation never happened. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel watched as Dean walked back to the car, a glass of water in one hand and a smile on his face as he waved with his other hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was too good for Castiel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He should have never trusted him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He should have stayed far away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You really don’t look too good, Cas,” Dean said, and handed him the glass. “Are you sure you want to do this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Don’t try and warn anyone - especially Dean. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Castiel said, a fist clenched tightly at his side. “I want to help.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>want </span>
  </em>
  <span>to, but you really don’t have to. Sam’s my problem and I don’t want you to have to dig up a bunch of old shit just to help me.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel’s hand shook as he unclenched his fist and took the cool glass of water. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I want to help,” he repeated again. Blunt. Flat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean shook his head, but didn’t argue. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay. What should we do?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Tell him there’s a warehouse nearby that you know I frequent. Maybe his brother is there. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There’s an old warehouse nearby that she and I used to use,” Castiel found himself saying. Almost like an out-of-body experience. “Maybe she took Sam there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean clapped his hands once and rubbed them together. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Great! I love a good mysterious warehouse. Where is it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel pulled open the door to his car and slipped into the driver’s seat. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not far.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean followed suit and they drove down the road, though Castiel noticed Dean glancing at him every few minutes as they sat in silence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How could he stop? He had to stop. He had to somehow either warn Dean to get as far away from him as possible or find a loophole but -</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His thoughts drifted the moment he tried to think of ways to do either. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’d been specifically told not to do that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>About three miles away from the Roadhouse, Castiel pulled up to what looked like an abandoned warehouse, just like Naomi had described. It was rusty and falling apart in some places, but an ideal place for Naomi to stash the discarded parts of angels she no longer needed. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just as he’d been about to open the door and step out of the car, a hand fell on his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cas, is everything okay?” Dean asked, and Castiel wanted more than anything to answer honestly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, he wasn’t okay. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t been okay for a very long time - but that was just the tip of this particular iceberg. He needed help, he needed professional help, and he needed to not be cursed anymore. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Anything</span>
  </em>
  <span> that would get him to stop what he was about to do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>If he asks if something’s wrong, say that you’re tired. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m just... tired,” Castiel said, and left the car. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was going to be sick. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe you should sit this one out? I can take a look by myself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel shook his head and pushed the car door open, closing  it behind him as he stepped out into the cool air next to the grey building. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean stuck close to him as Castiel opened a rusted side-door, a side-effect of the concern he knew he was making Dean feel. Dean </span>
  <em>
    <span>should </span>
  </em>
  <span>be trying to get as far away as possible from him. He should fly away now and never look back - leaving Castiel to the lonely life he was better off living, with no one to hurt, and no one to hurt him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The warehouse was mostly concrete, and there were pipes that were leaking questionable liquids down onto the ground, making a musty smell that Castiel wasn’t present enough to notice - barely there, already retreating into himself in hopes that maybe he wouldn’t be present enough to watch what would happen next. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Are you confident that you could take his angel blade from him somehow? Be honest.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you have your angel blade on you?” Castiel asked in a whisper as they turned to look down a long, empty hallway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean nodded and with a small flourish it was in his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I left my knife in the car. Could I use that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean easily handed it over. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why didn’t he </span>
  <em>
    <span>question </span>
  </em>
  <span>anything?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Didn’t he </span>
  <em>
    <span>realize</span>
  </em>
  <span> Castiel would never leave somewhere without a weapon?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Why did he trust him </span>
  <em>
    <span>so much?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The blade was heavy in his hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There will be a doorway leading into a big, industrial room. There are runes etched into the opposite side that will render him helpless for a small amount of time.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>How did you learn all of this?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>I have my ways. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel’s grip on the blade tightened when he saw the doorway. The door looked like it had been long since removed, but he could just see through into a large room with sunlight shining down through dusty windows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He paused, trying to stall the inevitable - trying to delay the curse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The previous orders urged him forward, and Castiel walked down the hallway and through the doorway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first thing Castiel noticed was a fenced-off corner of the room, where the figure of a man was sitting up in a grungy cot. Shaggy-hair and a familiar face, Sam was actually here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Naomi hadn’t mentioned that. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sam?” Castiel said, caught by surprise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The figure turned towards him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Did you say </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sam?”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel heard Dean’s voice getting closer as he turned to look back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean? Is that -” Sam’s voice shifted from surprised to panicked, “- Dean, no! You have to get out of here -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment Dean’s foot passed under the doorway, etched runes that Castiel didn’t recognize began to emit a bright blue around the edges of the metal frame, and Dean’s entire being seized up like he’d been hit with a taser. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel was pretty sure his own heart had been hit, too. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s eyes began to glow as he groaned and fell to his knees, like gravity had become too much for him to bear. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean!</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could hear Sam yelling for his brother behind him, and stared down at Dean, angel blade gripped in a shaky hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>You'll have fifteen seconds before the runes wear out. Make sure it gets done before then. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Every part of Castiel was trying to fight Naomi’s orders, but it was impossible. He’d been trying to fight orders for most of his life and was never able to outright disobey. The orders were orders. No room for loopholes or self-translations - Naomi knew his tricks and had made sure to word things accordingly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shouldn’t have let himself get close to someone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew this was a possibility, and he’d gotten close anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Much too close. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was a damned fool for falling in love with an angel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel knelt down in front of Dean, and for the first time he felt a tear running down his cheek. Then another. They’d somehow managed to slip through his ordered facade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were some things even Naomi couldn’t tell him not to do. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could feel the orders forcing him along, but he had a few seconds. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Reaching up, Castiel rested a hand on Dean’s cheek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Castiel managed to say, though his voice cracked. “You trust too easily.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean stared back at him, his eyes wide as Castiel saw something finally click into place for him, but he couldn’t tell exactly what. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The betrayal? The inevitability? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Cas</span>
  </em>
  <span> -” Dean’s jaw was clenched tightly, like every muscle in his body was being strained by some unseen force, and seemed to just barely be able to get the word out - “... s’okay.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And that was too much - Dean was trying to comfort </span>
  <em>
    <span>him? </span>
  </em>
  <span>The person who’d betrayed him after everything they’d been through? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel took the hand from off of Dean’s face and held it just underneath his Adam’s apple as he cut a quick, shallow incision with the angel blade. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The glow in Dean’s eyes began to fade as blue wisps of something cool began to spill into Castiel’s cupped hand, like threads of something that wasn’t quite liquid, but wasn’t quite solid, and absolutely electric. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was Prometheus stealing fire from a god, and if vultures clawed at his liver every day for the rest of eternity it still wouldn’t be enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean sagged, still breathing, still alive, but completely and utterly human. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well done, Castiel.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of Naomi’s voice cut through his grief like a knife as he held the blue glow tightly against his own chest in an attempt to protect it however he could. It was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean - </span>
  </em>
  <span>it couldn’t belong to anyone else. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have to say, I thought you were lying about him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A new voice joined in from somewhere behind him that caused Castiel to pause in his panic for just a moment so that he could understand what was happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a voice he’d heard only once before - a clipped, British accent full of authority.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course not. He’s our ticket to success.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Your </span>
  </em>
  <span>success.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t consider getting rid of your rogue angels to be a success?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span> “Hmm. Fair enough.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam was now shouting obscenities at both Naomi and Arthur that they seemed to be pointedly ignoring. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel still had his eyes on Dean a foot away from him, monitoring him helplessly. His head hung low in his kneeling position, a thin stream of blood trickled down his neck and soaked into the front of his shirt - but he was still alive, and that was what mattered. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Castiel had no predetermined instructions past this point. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The weight of the angel blade felt prominent in his hand, though he knew the moment he swung or did anything that seemed out of sorts he’d be told to stand down. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Maybe if he bided his time, found the right moment to do something -</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Castiel, please. I know you won’t forgive me, but I need you to know this is for the good of everyone,” Naomi said, but Castiel made no move to acknowledge he was listening. “</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> can use that Grace, Castiel. I can become angelic for long enough to perform some miracles. Wipe out herds of monsters. Save </span>
  <em>
    <span>thousands </span>
  </em>
  <span>of lives. Everything that </span>
  <em>
    <span>they </span>
  </em>
  <span>won’t do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t see why we’re expected to,” Arthur said, sounding bored. “Anyway. I suppose I’ll contact you in a week or so? I’ve got a couple of grunts who’ve been unruly in the past century or so. Might try to nip that behavior in the bud before they turn into another Dean. Just don’t use all of that Grace in one place.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Looking forward to it.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel’s breathing hitched as Dean slumped forward, his forehead falling perfectly into the crook of Castiel’s neck, all energy seemingly sapped from him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel wanted to wrap his arms around him, steady him with an embrace - anything to give Dean a small semblance of comfort - but he didn’t feel worthy of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... </span>
  <em>
    <span>Cas</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Dean whispered, his breath tickling against Castiel’s collarbone, so soft he almost missed it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel’s breath froze in his chest as he waited for Dean to say all of the horrible things Castiel absolutely deserved. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“... </span>
  <em>
    <span>angels can’t be cursed.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sentence he’d heard Dean say a couple of times before; a concept that caused a white-hot pang of jealousy sear through him whenever it was mentioned - oh, to be an angel without the weight of obedience thrust upon him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, to be like Dean. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arthur made a disgusted sound from a still-unknown place behind Castiel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll leave you to sort out that public display of affection,” Arthur said, and cleared his throat. “I have better things to be doing with my time.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What - what was Dean saying? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel cupped the handful of Grace closer to his chest as he felt his heart begin to race. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No, this was </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It didn’t belong to Naomi, it didn’t belong to Arthur, and it didn’t belong to Castiel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, get him off of you, Castiel,” Naomi said in a curt tone. “He’ll live.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel gently took his free hand and pushed Dean back so he was supported by his own weight once more. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean looked pale and sick, and while the sudden loss of Grace was probably a huge contributing factor, he was also losing blood - he’d need to be healed sometime </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>soon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel glanced down at the pool of bright blue in his hand, back up to Dean, and slowly shook his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Must</span>
  </em>
  <span> he?” Arthur said. “I’ve noticed you’ve kept the other one alive as well. Why don’t you just kill them?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why don’t </span>
  <em>
    <span>you?”</span>
  </em>
  <span> Naomi shot back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s call it plausible deniability.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s tired eyes never left Castiel’s as he ever-so-slightly leaned forward again, taking advantage of the argument going on behind Castiel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You have my permission,” Dean whispered, “but I won’t order you to.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel inhaled sharply. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean knew. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, Dean knew, and even in his weakened state he wasn’t going to use it to their advantage. The smart thing to do would be to order Castiel to do what he had to do and free the both of them, but it didn’t seem like he was going to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, if you want me to kill them, I will,” Naomi said impatiently. “Castiel, get off the ground - you look pathetic.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s eyes followed his as Castiel picked up the angel blade and slowly stood back up, towering over him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There were two distinct sounds that happened behind him. One was the beating of wings, and the other was a soft click - a sound Castiel had heard many times before - Naomi cocking her gun. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Arthur was gone, Naomi was armed, and Castiel made a decision. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>His</span>
  </em>
  <span> decision.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hadn’t been told to, and he hadn’t been told not to. This was </span>
  <em>
    <span>his </span>
  </em>
  <span>choice, and with one more nod from Dean, Castiel brought the Grace up to his own lips and tipped his head back. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Castiel - </span>
  <em>
    <span>no!”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it was too late - the Grace was his, now. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It felt like ice-water going down his throat, and was electric in a way he couldn’t describe. He’d swallowed what was effectively the angelic equivalent of an atom bomb and he could feel it in every hair on his head and cell in his body. He was a comet, shooting through space and crashing through anything that got in his way. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The light inside the warehouse dimmed as he held up a hand to study it, almost expecting it to be wreathed in flame - all of him felt like a bonfire. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could see everything all at once - Dean, in front of him with a complicated look on his face, Naomi running towards him, about to grip his arm - Castiel was a creature of one thousand eyes, four heads, unimaginable power, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>wings</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>All wrapped up in a Castiel-shaped bow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel batted a wing that only he could see and sent Naomi flying backwards before she could grab him, landing hard on the cement a few feet away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>“Don’t touch me.”</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His voice reverberated with celestial intent as he spoke.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Castiel,” Naomi said in a croaking voice as she sat back up. “Stop. Stand down.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The shadow of Castiel’s human self paused, waiting for the inevitable hold to grip onto his free will, but nothing came. Her words meant nothing to him - and </span>
  <em>
    <span>of course</span>
  </em>
  <span> they didn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The chains that tied him down had been shattered the moment he became what he now was - he’d never been more free. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Who was she to an angel? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just a human. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her words meant nothing to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Castiel, please - stop this.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A corner of Castiel’s lips turned upward as he stretched his wings, wide like he remembered Dean had done when he’d first revealed to him his angelic heritage. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <b>No</b>
  <span>. </span>
  <b>No more orders.”</b>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Naomi had been the one to hurt him - to hurt </span>
  <em>
    <span>Dean.</span>
  </em>
  <span> And she had tried to take this incredible power for herself - how could she possibly think she was worthy of it?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel stepped towards her, gripping the angel blade and thinking off all of the ways he could hurt her the way she hurt him. A blade could do it, but he had other powers now - so many different tools in his toolbelt that he could use. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was </span>
  <em>
    <span>made </span>
  </em>
  <span>to be a soldier, to raze civilizations, and to punish the unfaithful. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Naomi looked up at him as he approached, something akin to understanding in her eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It feels good, doesn’t it?” she said in a whisper. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel snarled at her. There was no kinship between the two of them anymore - a human trying to relate to him? </span>
  <em>
    <span>Him?</span>
  </em>
  <span> What did an ant have in common with the sun? </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was going to burn her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He could feel it welling up inside of him, this energy he barely knew how to control - but he didn’t need to know how. All he needed to do was direct it towards towards Naomi, and -</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a soft hand on his shoulder, and in being so focused on his enemy Castiel hadn’t realized Dean had pulled himself up off of the ground and was standing by his side. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Cas -” Dean said, his voice barely audible, “- I know. I know - it’s a lot. You’re feeling… </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>right now.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean’s voice was a damp rag against a raging inferno, but the touch on his shoulder was grounding in a way he hadn’t realized he desperately needed. It was an anchor for a soul that was flying higher than it had thought was possible. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s so much, Cas. I get it. But you need to come down, okay? This isn’t you.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel bristled at that - this </span>
  <em>
    <span>was</span>
  </em>
  <span> him, wasn’t it? </span>
  <em>
    <span>This </span>
  </em>
  <span>moment - right now - that was what mattered. His former life was a shell compared to everything he could be with this kind of power.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t forget yourself, Cas. Don’t forget the small things.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The small things… did those matter? He had a bigger picture now - an angelic nature that didn’t need to think about anything </span>
  <em>
    <span>small. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A cool hand pressed against Castiel’s cheek, and there was Dean, standing in between him and Naomi, losing more strength by the minute. The steady stream of blood down his neck was something that Castiel quickly surmised to be the reason. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Humans needed that to live.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean was human, now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He should fix what was hurting him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was that thought that cooled the fire inside of him - that was why he’d done this in the first place. For Dean. He’d needed to save Dean.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <b>“Dean…?” </b>
  <span>Castiel said, trying to remember, trying to find something to latch onto.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re hurt,” Castiel said, and the light in the warehouse began to return. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was an instinct, really. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He didn’t even have to think about it as he reached out and pressed two fingers against Dean’s forehead, and instantly made his body perfect again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No more wounds, no more weary muscles, no more pain.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean inhaled and shook his head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So that’s how that feels.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Castiel asked, frowning as he looked him over, despite knowing that he’d just healed every possible thing wrong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you?”</span>
  </em>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean, I -” Castiel looked down at wrists, though the shackles he used to wear had never been visible, “- I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>free. </span>
  </em>
  <span>How - how long did you know?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What your curse was?” Dean rested a hand over Castiel’s outstretched one. “Cas... I know you wouldn’t have hurt me like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel gaped at him, processing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why - why didn’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>use </span>
  </em>
  <span>it?” he asked, trying to wrap his mind around what Dean was saying. “You could’ve - you could have ordered me to save you and - and </span>
  <em>
    <span>Sam </span>
  </em>
  <span>needed help -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah,” Dean said, squeezing Castiel’s hand once. “It was probably stupid not to. But I just - I didn’t want to be...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean trailed off and let out a breath. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I couldn’t be just another person who took advantage of you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel felt everything all at once, the rational, hunter part of him wanting to argue that it wouldn’t have been worth it, but never in his entire life had anyone done something like this for him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean had chosen the most fatal of two options, so Castiel wouldn’t have to labor under yet another order from his curse. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean...” Castiel started, and his heart felt like it was going to burst. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was a shuffling sound behind Castiel, and he turned to see Naomi trying to push herself further back towards an exit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With great regret, Castiel turned himself away from Dean and took the few steps towards Naomi, no longer burning with hatred towards her, and held out a hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Keys,” he said flatly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I - I don’t -” she stuttered, looking up at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel let out an annoyed breath and reached a hand in the direction of the fenced off corner of the room that was effectively Sam’s cage. With a flick of his wrist, the padlock snapped in half and fell to the ground with a loud </span>
  <em>
    <span>thunk. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sammy!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Dean!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sounds of a joyful reunion behind him were a part of the background now as Castiel stared down at Naomi.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tables have turned, haven’t they?” Naomi said, her voice quavering. “Are you going to gloat? Rub it in my face? Give me some orders I can’t refuse? You’ve got the power for it, now - are you enjoying it?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel tilted his head to the side as he studied her. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are, aren’t you? Enjoying this.” Naomi sneered up at him. “Figures - you’ve always thought you had a higher moral standard than the rest of us, but you don’t. You would have done exactly what I did in my place.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you going to do now, Naomi?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Naomi’s sneer froze into confusion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right,” Castiel said. “The tables </span>
  <em>
    <span>have</span>
  </em>
  <span> turned. I have more power than most people have ever dreamed of. I could tear you in half - I could make you do anything.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel crouched down so that they were on equal levels. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But I won’t,” Castiel said, tilting his head to the side. “So. What are </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> going to do now?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Naomi’s eyes flashed from his face, to the floor, to somewhere behind him - probably Dean and Sam. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Castiel, listen to me. Together - we could change the </span>
  <em>
    <span>world.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Do you understand me? With a supply of angel Grace -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We can change the world anyway,” Castiel said, cutting her off. “The world doesn’t need a grand display of force to change it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel glanced behind him, watching as Dean looked over his brother to make sure that he was alright. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know that you hate them. You hate them for ignoring the small things in favor of their bigger plans, grander viewpoints, but now - look at you. You </span>
  <em>
    <span>are</span>
  </em>
  <span> them.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Naomi flinched.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The world needs small things. It needs... everyday people.” He turned back, and shrugged a shoulder in understanding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He understood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He understood wanting to make the world a better place and he understood thinking that what you were doing was never going to be enough. Especially in their line of work, it felt like a tidal wave of bad was constantly threatening to drown the good, and only big things ever mattered in the battle against it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Naomi,” Castiel said, and rested a hand on her shoulder, “what you do is </span>
  <em>
    <span>enough</span>
  </em>
  <span>. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>matters</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The world doesn’t require any more from you than what you’re already doing to make it a better place.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But - but I -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If all you do is help one person today, then you succeeded, because it mattered it to them.” Castiel took a deep breath and smiled. “And do you know what else I’ve learned, Naomi?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Naomi said nothing, staring back at him with a look he hadn’t seen on her face before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>I</span>
  </em>
  <span> matter. I matter - and I won’t let myself, or anyone else, become collateral damage in your misguided schemes.” Castiel removed his hand from her shoulder. “So. I’m going to take Dean and Sam with me to a safe place where we can recover and figure out what we’re going to do next. I suggest that you do the same.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel stood back up; tall, confident. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Goodbye, Naomi. I hope you find your purpose in small things.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that, Castiel turned, and walked away from Naomi, and towards Dean and Sam.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“- and this is Castiel,” Dean said, gesturing towards him and reaching out a hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel took it easily, and intertwined their fingers as he smiled at Sam. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good to meet you, Sam. I’ve heard a lot about you,” Castiel said. “Should we take this conversation home? You both look exhausted.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sam smiled wearily. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That... would be great. It’s been a rough few months for me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel held out a hand in his direction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll fly us home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean raised an eyebrow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you... know how to do that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel inclined his head and paused to stretch his new wings. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In theory.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Dean let out a breath and wrapped an arm around Castiel’s waist as Sam grabbed onto his other hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Alright, well, be careful - landings can be a bitch -”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Castiel flapped his wings and they were gone.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <h1>Epilogue</h1><p>Castiel leaned against a wall in the hallway of the bunker, staring at his hand as sparks of electricity jumped across his fingers. </p><p>Inside of him was a storm - a hurricane of power just waiting to be used. He could feel it raging within himself, but for now, he was in the center of it. </p><p>The calm.</p><p>Having the Grace of an angel inside of him was an experience he was never going to forget if he lived to a thousand years old - and with the Grace that was roiling inside of him - it felt like he actually might. </p><p>But it didn’t belong to him. </p><p>At Dean’s request Castiel had already contacted an angel named Charlie on his new angelic radio and told her what had happened with Sam and Dean. Castiel didn’t know anything about her besides that Dean seemed to trust her, but she’d sounded righteously angry at Arthur, and had promised to take care of everything.</p><p>It was something, at least.</p><p>The doorway in front of him opened, and Dean slipped through before shutting it quietly behind him. </p><p>“Alright, he’s asleep,” Dean whispered, and let out a breath. “We can get him more settled in tomorrow, and I can grill him about this <em> Eileen </em> he keeps mentioning, but the dude’s pretty wiped.”</p><p>“Understandable.” </p><p>Dean leaned against the wall next to Castiel and looked over at him - eyes searching for something. </p><p>“How’s it feel now?”</p><p>Castiel hummed and could feel thunder on his lips. </p><p>“More manageable, thanks to you.” He tilted his head. “What’s the best way to give it back to you?”</p><p>“The Grace?” Dean said, frowning a little. </p><p>Castiel nodded, a hand already travelling upwards to feel along his own throat. He had a feeling this wasn’t going to be comfortable, but he’d do whatever he had to for Dean. </p><p>“I, um,” Dean glanced away, “I… I don’t think I want it.” </p><p>Castiel’s mouth fell open, waiting for Dean to smile and nudge him and tell him that he was <em> obviously </em>kidding, but it didn’t happen. </p><p>Dean continued to avoid eye contact. </p><p>“Don’t say that,” Castiel said, furrowing his brow. “Of course you want it back. It’s - it’s <em> you. </em>”</p><p>Dean rubbed a hand over the back of his neck and shook his head with a small smile. </p><p>“It’s not, though. It’s -” Dean let out a breath and looked like he was gathering his thoughts. “Being an angel lets you see <em> so much </em> - but it’s all muted. There’s too much to see, too much to keep track of. It’s just like - too much and nothing at all - all at the same time. You know?”</p><p>Castiel nodded slowly. </p><p>Dean’s smile grew as he looked down at his own hands. </p><p>“<em> This - </em> this is something else. Everything is so <em> focused. </em> So <em> clear. </em> If I touch you -” Dean reached a hand out and pressed his fingers against Castiel’s cheek and rubbed his thumb over the stubble, “- it just belongs to this moment. It’s just... just for us.” </p><p>Castiel closed his eyes briefly and leaned into the touch. </p><p>“You’d be giving up everything, Dean. Power. Wings. Immortality.”</p><p>“Don’t need ‘em.”</p><p>“But -” </p><p>“Look. Cas.” Dean’s smile was one of understanding. “Sam’s human, now. You’ll be human when that Grace runs out.”</p><p>“Dean -”</p><p>“Fuck Heaven,” Dean said. “I don’t want anything to do with them. I choose you. Okay? I choose you.” </p><p>Castiel felt tears pricking at the edges of his eyes, and cleared his throat loudly. </p><p>“You’ll have to learn how to hunt like a human.”</p><p>Dean smiled. </p><p>“I can do that.”</p><p>“I’ll need to make sure you can do it without getting killed.”</p><p>“Sounds good to me.”</p><p>“I’m thinking... ninety-two percent sure interference?”</p><p>Dean smirked and grabbed Castiel’s hand, intertwining their fingers together. </p><p>“Am I still not allowed to tell you what to do?”</p><p>Castiel let out a huff of laughter and leaned in. </p><p>“Try it.”</p><p>“Hop on one foot.” Dean said, leaning his forehead against Castiel’s.</p><p>“No.” </p><p>Castiel smiled as he said it, thrilled that, for the first time in a very long time, the order meant nothing to him. It was harmless, even. </p><p>“Run around in a circle.”</p><p>“No.”</p><p>“... kiss me.”</p><p>“<em> That </em> one,” Castiel said, pulling Dean in closer, “I will comply with.”</p><p> </p><p>
  
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thanks so much for reading!!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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